The House of Healing Souls
by Elsbeth Ravensblood
Summary: Narcissa Malfoy's life is not what it once was. Broke, her husband in Azkaban, abandoned by her son, she survives as a prostitute in Knockturn Alley. Until one night she gets a visit from a dark, dangerous stranger. AU, EWE, HP/DG eventually. Grey/Harry
1. Chapter 1: A Proposition

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron or anything else in JKR's wonderful world. Except for the little pebble just to left of the front doors of Hogwarts. I put that there. I might own that. Maybe. But probably not.

 **A/N: This is the first story I started working on several years ago and I only have two chapters complete. Please don't expect quick or regular updates. My muse is very flighty and sometimes it takes months to get my one shots finished so this one will take awhile. Plus, it's going to be long. If you don't care for that I certainly understand if you don't want to start reading it. Thank you.**

 **Narcissa Malfoy does** _ **not**_ **forgive and forget and you will learn that Harry is messed up in certain ways.**

 **The House of Healing Souls**

 **Chapter 1: A Proposition**

"What do you say? A sickle and two knuts and I'll show you a better time than you can get down here."

Narcissa Malfoy absolutely loathed the words coming out of her mouth, but it was what her life had come down to. That she hated her way of life went without saying. Impoverished by the Ministry, her husband in Azkaban for life and abandoned by her son, she couldn't go much lower in society than to be a whore in Knockturn Alley. But she was a Black, and a Malfoy, and while the name Malfoy was ridiculed and despised throughout magical Britain, a Black never gave up, never gave in to the circumstances they found themselves in. They worked and fought to change those circumstances to their advantage to gain revenge on those who had put them in those circumstances in the first place. And she would have her revenge; she'd sworn that to herself… on all of them.

She ran the back of her middle finger in a gentle caress up the jaw line of her next potential source of income and said in her most sultry voice, one that hinted of the pleasures to be had. "I'll make it _very_ worth your while."

A hand clad in a soft, dark gray glove passed in front of her eyes, followed by an arm in a dark gray sleeve, but what had caught her attention had been the glinting of the golden galleon held between the fingers of that glove and her eyes followed it as it was pressed to the top of the bar.

" _That_ ," came a scratchy, soft voice, "is to talk. _This_ is for the night beyond- if you wish."

Her eyes came back to where the other gloved hand was dangling a small, dark gray purse from its index finger. Small, but full, and if it was full of galleons, which she believed it was based on the size of the circle pressing into its side, then she wouldn't make that much money in a month of working the johns in the alley.

But it was the face behind the purse full of coins that had her attention. Or rather, lack of a face. There were no eyes under the hood of the dark gray cloak surrounding where a face should have been. No nose, mouth, chin or jaw was visible, only a dark gray nothingness that chilled her. She knew who this was, this enigma of Knockturn, and that knowledge made her hesitate.

The Shadow Man.

The first time she'd heard his name she'd laughed. It was just too melodramatic. Someone who dressed up and glamoured themselves and snuck around in the dark terrorizing evil doers? But her thoughts had changed as she'd learned more about him. Cloaked and faceless he'd appeared in the Alley not long before she herself had taken up residence there. But, unlike her, he didn't live there; he merely terrified some of its other residents. It was whispered he was an unbeatable fighter, could do things not even magic could account for, and couldn't be found, followed or anticipated. No one knew who he was, what his business was, where he came from or where he went. But people vanished when he appeared, were found beaten and bloody, or simply terrified out of their wits. The whispers said there were those he did business with, but nobody she had heard of would ever admit it.

There were stories as well. One of the other girls had told her there was nothing _they_ had to fear from him. They plied their trade, made their living as best they could and not one was known to have even spoken to him.

Until tonight. She wasn't certain she wanted to be the first, but her intended target had quietly slid off his stool and given the two of them a wide berth as he made his way to the other end of the bar, where nervous eyes tried to watch while trying to appear to not be watching.

The facelessness of the glamour made her wary, the color of his clothing made him seem to be a part of the shadows of the bar, as if he were to back up into them he would vanish from sight, and from existence.

The hand with the purse moved, placing it on the bar beside the coin already there. She followed its travel, then looked back at that not-face and decided. There'd been no threat in his voice, no menacing moves, no feeling of danger, just a simple statement. She reached for the purse but his hand moved again and covered it.

" _After_ we talk." That soft, strangely scratchy voice sounded.

She looked back to his not-face, slightly disconcerted. She'd gotten very good at reading faces, their subtle expressions, the little lines, and the eyes. Especially the eyes. She could tell a lot by looking into someone's eyes. Not being able to see his face through the glamour took away a very important tool. But she would have to do without this time. "Very well." She said as she changed the movement of her hand to the coin, something she hadn't held in several years now. She'd forgotten just how much one of them weighed. "Where shall we talk?"

A sideways nod of the head indicated a table back in one of the corners of the room…a dark corner. Not particularly to her liking, but at least he didn't want to leave the bar. She followed him to the table where he surprised her by pulling out a chair for her. A gentleman in a place like this? Would wonders never cease? It was only as he was seating himself that she realized his choice of her chair had left her with her back to the room, while he had a view of the entire place. She wasn't overly worried, she was known here and Suzy, the other girl working the opposite end of the bar, would have her back. That's the way it was with the prostitutes of Knockturn Alley. Unless she scored.

But she would handle that if and when she needed to. Just the same she pressed her right forearm against the arm of her chair to insure her wand was there, ready at a moment's notice if she needed it. Just in case.

And then the man on the other side of the table waved his hand in an almost languid manner and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she felt the privacy and notice-me-not charms going up around them; powerful charms, without a wand. She couldn't keep herself from jerking slightly. Whoever he was, he was a powerful wizard, and she was suddenly far more nervous than she cared for. What did he want with her?

A low chuckle was his response. "I don't wish our talk to be the gossip of the alley. You are free to leave whenever you wish."

She wondered if that was really his voice or if he'd charmed that as well. Not that it mattered. While she was in no hurry to be finished with him, after all, that galleon was more than she'd make all night, she was curious as to why they were here, though. "You've paid for a talk, what would you like to talk about?"

"I have a proposition for you."

"That goes without saying." She replied with a slight smile. "After all, it's what I'm here for."

"I wish for you to be my woman."

The words, said in a calm and forthright manner, totally stunned her. Who was he to say that to her? It was well known throughout the magical world where she was and what she was. She no longer had any power of any kind in that world, whether political, financial or even familial to give any kind of aid to anybody. To everyone she had known she was a thing to be scorned, looked down upon, humiliated and worse of all, ignored. So why would this shadowy, enigmatic…person, want her for his woman? Yes, she was still beautiful, but her cleanliness was due more to the scourgify spell than to water and soap, her makeup was the cheapest she could find, some of her clothes were getting to the point where even a reparo couldn't help and she'd had to cut her long hair to above her shoulders to make it easier to keep clean. So, despite her beauty, there were other, better looking women to choose from. Merlin, she could name several of the prostitutes she knew who looked better than she did right now! So why her?

Unless it was because of _who_ she was, Narcissa Malfoy. She knew many people had been hurt by the Malfoy's over the years, some quite badly. For a lot of people, resentment that her husband Lucius had managed to avoid Azkaban after the first wizard war back in '81 ran very deep. His arrogance, almost blatant corruption of the ministry, underhanded dealings, and just plain bigoted attitude towards anyone or anything he considered beneath him, and that was almost everyone and everything, had made him even more enemies. Was this man someone who had a grudge against him, or an agent of someone who did, and was going to take it out on her because he couldn't get back at her husband now that he was in Azkaban? If she accepted his offer, would she just vanish as several people had?

"Why me?" She asked.

Instead of answering, he spoke as if she hadn't. "I'll pay you 20,000 galleons a year, including the rest of this one, payable on the first of each year, into your own vault, not one of Malfoy's, where only you can get to it."

She knew she had to look ridiculous with her mouth hanging open like that but she couldn't help it. She couldn't believe what he was saying even as the possibilities of what she could do with that amount of money began to fly through her head.

He wasn't finished however. "In addition, you will have your own room where I will never enter without your express permission, and five days of each month, in addition to those days where Mother Nature visits you, when you may tell me 'no' without any consequences at all. In return I ask only that when we are together you give me total control and obey me in what I tell you." He shrugged. "However, I recognize there may be some activities in which you will not wish to participate. In that event we will discuss your feelings and make a decision as to proceed or not."

She'd been in shock, unable to really understand what he was saying until he'd said "you give me total control and obey me". Thoughts of large amounts of money, and 20,000 was a large amount, left her at the implication of that phrase. "You want me to be some kind of sex slave for you." Her tone was cool, a hint of her displeasure showing through.

He shrugged again. "If you wish to think of it that way, but only during any sexual activities for which I'd be paying you. The rest of the time you'd be free to pursue any projects or activities that might interest you. After all, isn't that what you are, and what you do now?"

She leaned back in her chair as she pondered the logic of that. In a way, he was right; much as she was loathe to admit it, she had to accommodate her customers' wishes, do what they wanted. But at least she had control. "So you say, but here, I can leave anytime I like."

"As you could with me; I won't force you to do anything you don't want to." He replied. "Pack up, pick up and leave anytime you like, there will be no compulsions to stay. You can even take any possessions of yours with you as well as any money and gifts I might have given you. It's your choice."

She realized she was gaping again at what he'd just said and closed her mouth. "Anytime I want?"

"Anytime you want." He cocked his head to the side as if amused by disbelief.

She had to be certain about this. "So, if you put the money in my vault on January first, I could leave on the second? With the money, no questions asked?"

"Yes."

She sat staring at him, trying to figure why he was doing this. There had to be some reason for why he was saying what he was, doing what he was, but she couldn't figure it out. There had to be a catch, something to trap her, to keep her from doing exactly what she had just said. He couldn't be that magnanimous. So she asked the question. "Why?"

"Because I have plans and you are a big part of them, but only as a willing participant. I can only be certain you'll stay if you're absolutely certain you can leave at any time. I can't force you to be a part of them because they wouldn't work if I did."

"What makes you think I would want to be a part of any plans you had in the first place?" She was beginning to wonder if she shouldn't leave right now her confusion level was getting so high. She didn't like it and it was beginning to come through in the tone of her voice.

"Because I can give you the one thing you want that nobody else can, or will."

"What's that?"

"Where are you, Narcissa Malfoy?" He asked, once again avoiding her questions.

She snorted with disdain. "That should be obvious." She replied.

"Why?"

The question took her by surprise. Didn't he know why she was here? Everyone else did. "Why what?"

"Why are you here?"

"Why else would I be here? I'm broke, barely making ends meet, my husband is in prison, my son abandoned me, and I'm homeless and have nowhere else to go. Where else would I be **?"** Sheasked angrily.

"But why are you here?"

"I just told you!" She answered hotly, leaning over the table towards him as her anger at his obtuseness rose.

"But surely the Lady Malfoy has friends who would assist her, help her in her time of trouble, be there to lend a helping hand and take her in."

She could hear the smirk he must be wearing behind that glamour as he spoke of her troubles. "Yeah, right." She leaned back into her seat so hard she thought it would collapse under her. "That pack of hyenas couldn't wait to throw themselves onto the carcass of house Malfoy." She said, remembering a time of her life she preferred to forget. "There was no help from them. I practically begged some of them to take Draco and me ….."

Her head snapped up, back straight, eyes narrowed as she looked at him warily, finally realizing what he was offering. "Revenge." She stated in a low, hard tone, still watching him closely.

"I always thought you were the smart one in that family." He said. Again, she thought she could hear an expression in his voice, this time a sly smile. But his remark intrigued her. Did they know each other previously or did he just know of her? She put the thought aside for later as he continued. "Lucius was cunning and clever but his plans had a habit of going awry. Draco hardly ever thought beyond the moment, unless he was planning something and his plans were even worse than his father's. Why the hat put him in Slytherin was beyond understanding. They were both far too interested in being the center of attention to look at the consequences of their actions if their plans failed."

"You, however, were very careful to keep yourself out of the public eye unless it was to further your agenda. Balls, gatherings, Ministry functions, there you were, center stage in all your glory. But I think it was more to mask and distract people's eyes from what Lucius was doing than to simply attract attention to you. You could have been Slytherin himself. Tell me, Lady Malfoy, how many of your husband's actions in corrupting the Ministry to the extent that he did, were his ideas, and how many were yours?"

 _That_ question shook her. The ideas had been her husband's, but she had helped with many of them, fine tuning them, improving them, usually making them simpler and much less prone to failure. It had been more to keep Lucius out of trouble than to help him corrupt the Ministry, because Merlin help him, he was a grand-stander and several of his schemes had almost seen him in Azkaban when they hadn't worked out as planned.

But nobody had ever before associated her with his plans. That this man had told her much about him. Along with what she already knew, admittedly not much, she could now add very intelligent and incisive.

And much more dangerous.

"Who are you?" she asked warily, moving so she could retrieve her wand at a moment's notice. "And why do your plans involve me?"

"Sometimes, too much knowledge is not a good thing. It can even be dangerous. Those plans are such knowledge. This," a gloved finger flicked the money pouch, "pays for tonight, say, until after breakfast? Decide then if you'll join me. The terms, after all, are very generous."

A flick of her wrist and her wand was in her hand, pointing directly at him as she stood and backed away from the table. But she still wasn't outside the wards he had placed around them. Just how powerful was he? "I'm not going anywhere with you!" She exclaimed in a low dangerous tone, letting him know what would happen if he tried taking her. "I don't know who you are, but I've heard too much about you and your interest in me is far too dangerous for my liking."

"I give you my word nothing other than what I have said will happen to you. Isn't that, the money, and a chance to get out of this place, if only for a night, worth it? Clean sheets, a warm bed, food you don't have to pay for, a real bath, clean clothes, and the luxury of not having to sleep with one eye open in case somebody here might think to try and take what you need to sell to survive? And let's not forget that you would only have one man to please tonight."

She listened to his arguments, admitting that they were good ones, and oh so very tempting, but what good would those things be if she wasn't alive to enjoy them? Or worse. "No, and there's nothing you can say to make me change my mind."

He looked at her for a few seconds, then leaned forward and placed his forearms on the table, palms flat on the top, and said something in a low, almost whisper soft tone, which did exactly that. "Is Draco alive?" The words were followed by an almost unnoticeable nod.

She stood stunned, her arm and wand falling to her side, staring wide eyed. _It wasn't possible! She'd never told anyone about those words!_ She slumped into her chair her legs going weak and unable to hold her any longer. _It can't be! He's gone; he's been missing for almost four years!_

Without thinking she reached across the table and pushed back the hood hiding his face, the glamour vanishing as she did so and she found herself looking into the eyes of the only other person alive who could possibly know what she'd said, what she'd done, on that dark, horrible night five years before.

Deep, emerald green eyes.

"Potter."


	2. Chapter 2: Explanations

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron or anything else in JKR's wonderful world. Except for the little pebble just to left of the front doors of Hogwarts. I put that there. I might own that. Maybe. But probably not.

 **Chapter 2: Explanations**

The young man in front of her gave her a small, wry smile as he leaned back in his chair. "You seem a bit shocked to see me, Narcissa." His voice was no longer scratchy, but soft and soothing.

She shook herself to force her mind back into a semblance of rational thought. "Considering no one has seen or heard from you in almost four years, and what went on with you in the year before that, a lot of people think you're dead. Add in what happened at Hogwarts in the battle, and some people make a very good case of you going off someplace unknown, putting your wand in your mouth and doing a _Reducto_." He actually grinned at her words.

Having learned the identity of the Shadow Man, she felt a whole lot safer now. But he had just raised a lot more questions. "Where the hell have you _been_?"

He looked back at her. "I promise, I'll answer most of your questions later. But I would really like to do that in a much more comfortable, not to mention private, place, if that meets with your approval?"

Knowing there was no one she could possibly be safer with, she nodded and stood up. He pulled his hood back up, the glamour once again hiding his face, and with a wave of his hand, dispelled the privacy and notice-me-not charms around them. _'Impressive. He does that so easily.'_ She thought. Turning, she saw Suzy only half way down the bar, watching the two of them, a question in her eyes. A sharp shake of her head and a smile, part of a silent code used by the women who worked the alley, reassured the other woman and she turned back to her prey.

Potter led her out of the pub and in the first darkened corner they came to he placed his arm around her waist and with a quick twist she felt the sensation of an apparation.

They arrived in the foyer of what she assumed was an impressive manor house if the décor was any indication. She had been in many mansions where everything you saw screamed wealth in an attempt to impress you, but just this one room impressed her more than all of the others she had ever seen. The paneling was a dark, rich color and the objects within it, a simple but delicate wooden chair upholstered with a richly textured dark material and matching side table, a long coat rack and a well worn but exquisitely wrought wooden bench. Instead of saying 'I am priceless, covet me' the room spoke to her in soft whispers of 'I am someone's home, be welcome'. It was one of the most comforting rooms she thought she had ever found herself in.

As Harry escorted her into the grand entrance hall with its beautiful marble floors and twin sweeping staircases, the décor was the same, richly appointed but with a feeling of 'home', of being lived in. She could almost hear the laughter of playing children. Malfoy Manor had never felt this way. It always made her feel as if it were built to impress upon anyone who entered the power, prestige and wealth of its owner, not to be comfortable.

"Winky."

She'd been so interested in the room, she'd heard of Potter Manor but never seen it, she'd forgotten about Harry for a moment. A house elf popped into view and for the first time in her life found herself being glared at by one of the diminutive servants.

Harry, however didn't seem to notice. "Winky, this is Lady Malfoy. She is my guest for the night. Please see her to my chambers, run her a hot bath, lay out some nice night wear and then prepare a light meal for the two of us."

"Master Harry, she's being one of those who hurt Miss Herminine and kills Dobby!"

She was shook by the vehemence of the statement, the glare turning into a look of righteous anger and outright hatred. She couldn't deny the truth of the statement, she could still remember that day as if it had just happened, but how could she tell an elf of all people why she'd had to do what she had done?

But Harry went down on one knee next to the small being and spoke softly to her. "Winky, she didn't do either of those things." He explained.

"She's did nothing! That be like helping!"

He reached out and turned the elf to face him and looking directly into her large eyes, said, "Winky, listen to me." The elf looked at him in a totally caring and expectant way. "She couldn't help Hermione in any way because if she had, her sister, the one who was hurting Hermione, quite probably would have attacked her and possibly killed her, as well as her son. Draco had just helped me and if Bellatrix had found out she would have given both of them and me and Hermione to Riddle, who would have tortured and killed us all. She helped me later, something for which I owe her my life. And she couldn't have prevented Dobby's death if she had wanted to. Her sister was just too fast. I was there, Winky, I saw it all. _I_ couldn't stop that knife. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is. It wasn't her fault."

She watched as the elf looked at Harry. "She protecting family?" The question was so soft and plaintive it almost broke her heart.

"Yes, Winky, she was protecting her family."

The little elf turned back to her, looking contrite and embarrassed. "Winky is being sorry for saying Master Harry Potter's lady friend being hurting Miss Herminine and killing Dobby. If you want Winky to be punishing herself, she will."

For the first time in her life she found herself kneeling down to eye level with a house elf. How could she not? She truly understood where the little being's feelings had been coming from. Looking at it from her point of view she was totally justified in thinking the way she had. "No, Winky, I don't want you punishing yourself. What I did that day was wrong, I know that, but there was nothing else I could do. I understand why you felt the way you did and I hope you can forgive me for what I did."

Winky smiled. "Of course Winky be forgiving you. You's be protecting family, like Winky be protecting Master Harry Potter and his family, and Dobby protected him. That right thing to do. Come, Winky be showing you to Master Harry Potter's chambers now."

She stood and looked at Harry. "You go ahead." He told her. "I have a few things to do. Take your time and I'll see you in a bit."

She followed Winky up the stairs and down a hallway and, surprisingly, past a set of large double doors that she assumed led to the master's chambers. When she asked, Winky replied, "Yes, those is master's chambers but Master Harry Potter say they so big he get lost in there. So he sleeps here." She opened a door into what was still a quite large room containing a large desk, a large four poster bed, two separate dressers, a small sitting area with a couch and two comfortable chairs with side tables, a small table with two chairs, a large standing mirror and two doors, which she assumed led to a closet and a bathroom. "Winky run bath now. Robe for Lady Malfoy is there." She pointed to a hook on the wall next to the mirror, and vanished.

Looking around, she walked over to one of the doors and opened it, satisfying herself it was indeed a closet, filled with a man's clothes.

As was the robe, she found, after she had removed her clothes and slipped into it, large, deep blue, warm, soft and fuzzy. _Harry certainly likes to be comfortable_ , she thought to herself.

She had just laid her clothes over the back of a chair when Winky reappeared. "Lady Malfoy, your bath be ready for you."

"Thank you, Winky." She said with a smile as she followed her into the bathroom. Like the rest of the house that she'd seen, there was no ostentation, no pompousness about the room. The fixtures weren't gold, the tub, while large enough to submerge in, was not big enough to swim in, and the shades on the light fixtures weren't made of crystal, all of which she had seen in other mansions. It did however have stone tile flooring, tiling halfway up the wall in a soft soothing green and painted a lighter shade of green above. It also had a shower in the corner with frosted glass door and side that looked quite inviting as well.

But the tub was her target this night. It had been far too long since she'd had a good, satisfying soak in a hot bath and she stepped into the water in eager anticipation. She sighed with happy contentment as the hot water rose up her bare skin until she sat on the bottom with it up to her chest, whereupon she lay back and submerged herself in its all embracing heat. The need to breathe finally forced her to rise up and she was delighted to discover the bottom of the tub was shaped in such a way that when she set her bottom into a depression in it she could lean against the back of the tub with the water just below her lips and not have to worry about slipping down. She relaxed and enjoyed the luxury of the hot water.

Finally, though, she sat up, knowing that while Harry had told her to take her time, he'd be expecting an appearance from her sometime tonight. Deciding to take advantage of the situation and finding a variety of soaps, shampoos and conditioners on the edge of the tub, she set about using them all, wanting to be really clean for the first time in a long time.

After she had finished in the bath and dried off, using a large, fluffy and almost sinfully soft towel, she found she had a decision to make. The warm bathrobe she'd worn into the bath was still hanging where she'd left it, but lying on the vanity was a nightgown of acromantula silk, off-white and sensuous to the touch. She knew it hadn't been there when she'd entered. She hadn't agreed to being with Potter yet, even if she'd come to his home with him, so which should she share when she met him?

When she stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later she found Harry sitting at the table, which had covered dishes and a bottle of wine as well as chilled water, looking over a piece of parchment. He had changed as well, wearing a loose gray and red outfit of some soft and warm looking material. Also on the table was the pouch, a respite of a few days from her current life, or down payment on her soul, she wasn't quite sure which at this time. She still had a decision to make; two really.

Harry looked up as she appeared, whether upset or disappointed at her choice of the heavy robe not evident as his smile lit up his face. "There you are! I was beginning to think I might have to come in and rescue you from drowning." He stood and moved around the table to pull her chair out for her. "I hope you enjoyed yourself."

"I did, thank you very much. It just felt so good to have a real hot soak after such a long time."

He pushed the chair back in as she sat. "Good. And now for that food I promised you." He lifted the dish covers to reveal a fresh garden salad and a creamy broccoli cheese soup.

"It looks delicious."

He sat back down in his chair and uncovered his own food. "Wine or water?"

"Wine, please, but only a little."

He smirked good-naturedly as he poured. "Afraid I'd try to get you drunk and work my wicked ways upon you?"

She forked some lettuce and cucumber into her mouth and chewed, wondering what kind of dressing was on it. She'd have to remember to ask. "That would be the least of my worries concerning you. That, however," she pointed her fork at the pouch, "would allow you to work many of your wicked ways on me for the rest of the night, if I decide to let you."

He looked at her thoughtfully as he finished his own mouthful. "A change of mind? About tonight I mean."

"If I have, what would happen, since I have already partaken of your hospitality?"

He shrugged as he ladled a spoonful of soup to his mouth. "In that case, there's a very nice bedroom just across the hall or any of several others if that one doesn't suit you that you may use for as long as you wish."

She stared at him, not expecting an answer like that. "As long as I wish." She stated, wanting to make sure she was hearing what he was saying.

"Yes. And you can keep the money, I've got plenty."

"But, if you don't want to have sex with me, why go through all the charades at the pub? Why bring me here?"

"Because I do want to have sex with you, both tonight and for many nights to come. But I will not force you into it. It would be a nice side benefit that fits in quite well with my plans, but it's not necessary."

"So, these oh so mysterious plans call for you having me on your arm as your own private high priced whore?" Her temper flared as she deduced what he was really after. To be known as a whore was one thing, to be paraded around as one was something else entirely. "Is that what the twenty thousand galleons are for? To remind me of what I've become?"

His left eyebrow rose. "Excuse me, but I was under the impression if you had sex with a lot of men for money, then you were called a whore, but if you had sex with one man for money then you were called a mistress."

Her mouth clamped shut with a clack as her teeth came together, her rant cut off in mid-stride. Now why hadn't she thought of that? She leaned back in her chair and watched him as he forked another helping of salad into his mouth, never taking his eyes off her own, as she went through the implications. Socially her status would be ambiguous, tied not to her own status as a wife or to a family, but to the man's she was a mistress to. She would be much more vulnerable to attacks, and she fully expected them if she agreed to this, than she would if she were Harry's wife, but her attackers would have to be much more careful. As the mistress of a rich and powerful man and as the lord of two ancient houses Harry was very powerful and very rich, she would have means of retaliation not currently available to her. The amount of influence people thought she had over him would be just as important as the amount she actually had.

"Soup's getting cold." He chided her gently. She began eating again, thoughts running through her head.

Finally finishing her food she sat back and sipped her wine. "You're acting a lot more Slytherin than I would have expected." She said to him, just to see what his reply would be.

He chuckled. "The hat wanted to put me there, said I could do great things if it did, but I'd already met your son by then and most definitely did not want to go there. If people want to continue seeing me as a Gryffindor that's fine by me, it's a good disguise, but I intend to embody the traits of all four houses in order to achieve my goals."

"And those are….?"

"I'm going to change the wizarding world." It was a bold statement, confident in its delivery and she truly believed he believed every word of it.

"How do you plan to do that?"

"In various ways that I am not, at this time, ready to divulge. Let's just say that the Gray Man is a good indicator of my current alignment in the world."

She was confused for a moment. "Gray Man? Who is…" realization hit her. "Oh, you mean your Shadow Man personae."

He scowled a little. "That wasn't my choice but once someone sticks you with a nickname, what are you going to do?"

"So you're going dark."

His pained expression told her she'd missed the mark on that one. "No, I'm not going dark. I'm merely going to be what I am. Can you truly hold up anyone, with a few exceptions such as Tom Riddle and some of his Death Eaters, who is 'dark' or 'light'? Even Dumbledore wasn't all light, trust me in that. We all have our dark sides and light sides which makes us all gray. Only the degree of shading is different."

"Alright, I can see all of that, but why are you dressing up and terrorizing people?"

He gave her a sly smile. "Ask yourself who I'm terrorizing."

She thought a moment and returned his smile. "Alright, granted, most of them deserve it, but why the costume at all?"

"Knowledge is power and it's a lot easier to gain that knowledge as the Gray Man than as Lord Harry Potter-Black. If people don't know I'm the one looking for it, it also means people don't question why I want it in the first place."

He changed the subject abruptly. "But what about you? How did you end up in the alley? I thought there would have been someone to help you out."

She sighed at the remembered time. "I thought so too. You know how the trials turned out, a lot of Riddle's Death Eaters, especially those of his inner circle, got Azkaban or the Kiss, but when the dark mark vanished with his death there had to be proof or witnesses that could testify against them and too many of them had been smart enough to keep their masks firmly in place. Most of them never even got to trial. I had hoped someone of them would help. But after the Ministry decided to hold Lucius up as the gold standard of willing accomplices and confiscated Malfoy Manor and all our vaults they left me and Draco out on the street with nothing but the clothes on our backs and what valuables we had with us. Only your testimony in our trials kept us out of Azkaban. But even with you testifying for us there was a stigma attached to us. Some wouldn't have anything to do with us out of fear the DMLE was watching us to see if we might lead them to more DE's, some because of personal enmity between our houses or Lucius and whoever, some I didn't even bother asking because I can't stand them, and some were only too happy to see us fall into the depths and leave us there. Some even … even _laughed_ at us!"

The evident bitterness at her last sentence made Harry ask, "Anyone I know?"

Her eyes snapped to his, realized he was merely curious and she took a deep calming breath. "Priscilla Mayweather, a jumped up little common bitch who got very lucky and married into an old noble family. She thought because she was pure blood, she could put on airs of actually being noble. She told me, to my face, she wouldn't dirty her shoes by having a couple of poor homeless wretches in her home unless we could somehow turn ourselves into house elves."

She could see a slight smirk on his face. "I take it the two of you didn't get along before your present circumstances came along." He stated, lifting his glass to his lips and sipping.

She sniffed derisively. "The brain dead little bint doesn't know the first thing about real noble pure blood traditions, rules or laws. I proved that to her on several occasions." His smile broadened. "Wipe that smile off your face." She said testily. "If you had to spend ten minutes in the same room with little Prissy, you'd know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I take it she didn't like that name?" He still had the smile.

"Absolutely hates it." She replied with a smirk of her own. "Just more evidence she didn't know a thing about pure blood traditions: you _never_ let your opponent see you react to an insult, but she did, every single time. If I had to be around her, I'd just call her that and smile as she tried to ever so politely correct my use of her name, whereupon I'd agree with everything she said, and say it again. It wasn't very good etiquette but it was fun seeing how red I could get her face to turn." She laughed at the memories.

"So, no one would take you in. What about your sister?"

Her laughter died in an instant and she looked down. "She actually offered, but by that time Draco was back to his usual arrogant self and wouldn't dream of staying with a 'blood traitor', the idiot. After the way he treated her, I couldn't bring myself to ask again. I sent her a letter apologizing for Draco's behavior, told her we'd be fine and thanked her for the offer."

"Why didn't you ask me?"

She looked up at him. "After all the trouble my family had caused you? The pain? After what I let happen to … her?" She sighed heavily. "Winky was right in what she said you know. Why would you have taken us in after that?"

"I never had anything against you and I owed you a debt, Narcissa. If you had told Riddle I was still alive neither one of us would be sitting here right now. I'd have taken Draco because he's your son, but I was right as well in what I told Winky: you couldn't have stopped what happened that day. I couldn't, so why would I think you could? I've forgiven you for that a long time ago."

She took a sip of wine, not looking at him. "I actually did think about it at one time, but by then you had disappeared and nobody knew where to find you. And as for my _son_ " she said the word with more than a trace of bitterness, "he up and ran off and abandoned me, taking what was left of our money, my last piece of jewelry and even the rest of my clothes! On top of that he left me a note stating he held me personally responsible for all of our family problems, that if I'd only had more faith in the Dark Lord and his father, done as they'd told me and sacrificed everything I had to the cause we would be the rulers of the English magical world. Since I'd failed them and him he no longer considered me his mother and never wanted to see me again." She drained her glass in one swallow. _And more but I don't need to tell him that little piece of information._ "The little shite bastard, and I call him that knowing exactly who his father is, after everything I'd done for him, to treat me that way. After that I didn't have any choice: nowhere to go, no money, no food, I sold myself as a prostitute, or I starved."

"I don't suppose you plan on letting it stay that way?"

She showed him a predatory smile. "I don't care how long it takes, every last one of them is going to learn that payback is a bitch, and her name is Narcissa!"

He laughed and she let her smile relax. "What about you? Where did you go? I wasn't kidding when I said a lot of people think you've done away with yourself."

His laughing stopped as he stared at the empty glass he was holding in his hand. "I … was in a bad place at the time. All of the trials and arrangements at school helped me keep my mind off of things but when they all ended, I just … I had to get out, get away. So I left. I went muggle. I went around the world, not really doing anything, just traveling, seeing places, trying not to think, not to remember."

She could feel his pain, imagined his feelings, and knew who he was talking about. "Miss Granger." He looked up at her then, met her eyes, and she suddenly knew something else. "You loved her."

His gaze returned to the glass. Sighing deeply, he said simply, "Yes."

"Did she know?"

He nodded. "I told her."

"And she died defending another man. They died together." No wonder he had been so messed up! To confess his love to her and her not be at his side as he fought the most powerful Dark Lord in centuries, to be with another man when she died, how big a rejection could that have been.

But he seemed to have another opinion. "She died defending our best friend, mine and hers. I wouldn't have expected anything less from her." There was nothing sharp about his tone; it sounded tired and was more explanatory sounding than anything else. "It just really, really hurt and I couldn't make it stop." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "I was closer to that wand in the mouth trick than you might believe."

That surprised her. She had never believed the theories that said he had committed suicide, but to hear him say he had even considered it shook her. "Something must have happened, then. You seem pretty level headed now."

He nodded. "I met somebody, somebody with even bigger problems than me. Hermione always said I had a 'saving people thing' that made me want to help other people before myself. It sort of kicked in and I got involved trying to help them get their life back together."

"So everything worked out and you came back and decided to do your Gray Man thing and make whatever plans you have for whatever you want to do."

He looked at her for a moment before giving a short, harsh laugh. "Hardly. We almost killed each other. Everything just sort of got out of control and if something hadn't happened…."

He trailed off and didn't seem prepared to explain further. But how could it have been so bad if he was sitting here talking about it? "What happened?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. A miracle? Heavenly intervention? Hallucination? I don't really know. But it changed things, changed me." He paused, obviously debating with himself. "They're here, in the house."

"What?"

"They're here, in the house." He looked at her again. "If you should decide to stay here I would ask that you not go into the East Wing. I won't forbid it because doing that just makes people more interested in finding out what they're forbidden to see." He smiled again, as if remembering a lost memory. "However, if you do go there, please do not use any magic."

"Why not?"

"They're muggle."

She stared at him for a second in disbelief. Why would he bring muggles here? "Do they know about magic?"

He chuckled. "Yes, they know. The statute of secrecy is safe. I just couldn't leave them where I found them, so I brought them here. It's been an ongoing struggle but they're much better now, just not ready to rejoin the world just yet." The smile he had was bemused, pensive. "I've thought of this place as 'The House of Healing Souls' a few times. We've helped each other get better and I'm a better person for it, but I'm still healing as well. This," he looked around the room and she knew he was seeing the entire manor, "is a good place to heal."

"What about me?" She asked. "I know you were around the Alley before I was but you never even took the time to find and ask me how I was doing." She knew she sounded upset, maybe bitter, but it was an answer she really wanted to hear. Her life definitely would have been better if he'd offered his home a year ago.

He had the grace to look ashamed, but he met her gaze. "I am truly sorry about that, Narcissa, but I really didn't know your circumstances until only about six months ago. I never saw you and your name never came up in any conversations I had there. It was totally by accident I found out about you when I heard an acquaintance mention he was on his way to enjoy your … favors. It was too late to undo what had happened and I had already decided to find you and ask for your help, but I wasn't ready yet and it was a bad time. However, the Gray Man did let it be known that if anything bad happened to you, somebody was going to pay. Painfully. I would understand if you felt like hexing me right about now."

She sat and stared at him stonily, her right index finger slowly tapping on the table, as she considered doing just that. But she was honest enough to admit she hadn't exactly gone out of her way to advertise her location. Word of mouth had been bad enough to let certain people she had firmly on her payback list find her. Better to change the subject. "So where did you get so good at wandless, silent casting during your travels?"

"Oh, you mean this?" He said, and waved his hand over the table. Suddenly, there were six wine glasses on the table instead of just hers. She had to admit she was impressed.

"Yes, that."

He stretched out in his chair. "Actually, I came up with that little gem right here at home. I was just sitting around the house one day thinking about plans I was making, fiddling with my wand when an idea occurred to me. Tell me, what is your wand? In the basic senses I mean."

"It's a focus for your magic. Everybody knows that."

"True. But physically it's just a thin piece of a magical creature surrounded by wood to protect it, and add to its focusing ability. The better those two things match up with your magic, the better the wand responds to you. But what would happen if you had something that matched up with your magic perfectly? Something better than a wand?" He grinned as he waggled his index finger at her.

She stared at him in disbelief. She understood what he was saying but it _couldn't_ be that easy! "That's not possible! I've tried doing wandless magic and it's hard, a lot harder than with a wand."

"But is that because it's hard, or because you're not trying to focus your magic through a small narrow focus but just letting it flow out of your hand and then trying to focus it? Try this: make a fist."

She did, holding it up in front of her as he was.

"Point your finger." She did, pointing it straight up. "Now, imagine your finger is a wand, with a core of witch's bone surrounded by witch's flesh, focus your magic through it and do a Lumos."

She did, thinking about her magic, willing it to her fingertip. " _Lumos!_ " She incanted.

The end of her finger lit up. She gaped at the soft light emanating from her finger. It wasn't as bright as what she could do with her wand, but it was there. As she stared at it she believed she was doing it and as she believed the glow brightened.

"You see? Easy." He fanned his fingers and all five of them lit up.

She looked at him. "But how is it no one has ever noticed this before? If it's so easy, why doesn't everyone do it?"

He shrugged and his fingers went out. "Maybe because everyone is told wandless magic is so hard to do, that it takes lots of concentration, more power; maybe because people are too lazy to try or don't want to think of themselves as animals like the creatures that provide the focus for their wands."

She raised her middle finger beside the glowing index one, pushed her magic into it and again spoke the spell. Two of her finger tips now glowed. "It's so easy!"

"You'll find as you practice you can do any spell just like that and even easier than with your wand. I think it's because you don't have to push you magic through the interface of your hand and your wand so it takes less power to do the spell, which means where a certain number of spells might have drained you before, now you can cast more for longer."

She did a silent _Nox_ and the glow went out. Examining her fingers she found they weren't even warm, much less harmed. "When you tell people about this, it will change the wizarding world."

"Why would I do that?"

She looked at him to see a sly smile on his face and it struck her: why indeed? It would provide a tactical advantage in a fight and a surprise advantage in places where you might conceivably not have your wand. She grinned to match his own, pleased that he actually trusted her enough to tell her this important piece of information. "Yes, why would you?"

"Exactly. The Gray man is expert at wandless magic, but Harry Potter still uses a wand and the longer people think he needs to use a wand, the better. And now that our supper is over and you have decided not to share my bed this evening…" he started to rise from his chair.

"Oh, I never said that."

His forehead knitted together as he looked at her in confusion. "But you said…"

"I merely asked what would happen if I didn't, not that I wouldn't." She stood up and moved around the table to stand in front of him. She had enough integrity to give a man what he was paying for and he was paying a lot. Besides, after being with him all evening, talking with him, she was interested in seeing what he was like. At least he was clean, polite and interested in her, not just her body and what she could do with it, which was a lot more than she could say about any of her other customers. She untied the belt holding the robe closed and shrugged it off her shoulders to lie on the floor. "And to tell the truth Lord Potter-Black, I'm interested in finding out what you're like in bed." He'd been truthful with her; the least she could do was be truthful with him.

He stared at her with an amount of awe that was pleasing to her vanity, his eyes traveling up and down her body, taking it all in. The silk nightgown wasn't skin tight but it was tucked in at the waist and fit her upper body close enough to give more than a hint of what that body looked like. The fact it was also, but not quite, transparent certainly helped. She personally thought it was beautiful and idly wondered if it was one of those 'gifts' he had mentioned earlier. "Do you like what you see, my lord?" She asked in a low sultry voice. Stroking his vanity certainly came with the price.

His head jerked in a nod so boyish she almost laughed, but the tent in the front of _his_ robe dulled that desire and sparked another. "Then perhaps you should see more." She shrugged the top of the gown off her shoulders and it slid down, caressing her skin like a soft breeze. It was so light the top seam actually caught on her suddenly stiffened nipples and hung there, an unintentional tease, before continuing its slide to the floor, leaving her standing in all of her glory. She smiled at his expression, one of pure yearning need and realized she hadn't felt this wanted in a very long time. His eyes never stopped moving as she stepped out of the circle of the gown and robe with a grace achieved after years of practice as a highborn pureblood lady. With an equal grace she went to her knees before him, hands to his shoulders to gently push him back in his chair. "Please, my lord, relax and let me see to your every need." She slid her hand through the front of his robe and her eyes widened in surprise at what she found. This was going to be a very interesting night indeed!

His hand came to her face and she looked up at him. "If you don't mind." He said, and out of the corner of her eye she saw her blond tresses suddenly change to black as he used a color change charm on them. "I always thought you would look better with dark hair."

She wrapped her hand around him, barely, smiled up at him, said "As you wish, my lord," and then bent her head to begin the rest of the night.


	3. Chapter 3: Discussions

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron or anything else in JKR's wonderful world. Except for the little pebble just to left of the front doors of Hogwarts. I put that there. I might own that. Maybe. But probably not.

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Discussions**

She woke the next morning sprawled across the bed on her front, the cool softness of cotton sheets caressing her naked skin. She smiled lazily. More firsts since she had come to this place. She had always lain straight on the bed, on her back or side, never on her stomach, and she had never in her life slept one night naked. Even after having sex with Lucius she'd always bathed afterwards and put on a nightgown. Sleeping in Knockturn had been no different; After 'work' it was strip down, use a cleansing spell then put on the under shift she now used only for that purpose and go to bed.

But last night was different. Last night had been the first time a man had given her more than he had taken; a lot more! After she had finished Harry beside the table he had helped her stand then picked her up and carried her to the bed. Laying her down he had removed his robe and she'd been impressed with what she saw: a lean, well defined but not over muscular body. As he'd crawled onto the bed he leaned down and kissed her, not something she normally allowed from her clients. However, since she was going to be more a lover to him than a prostitute she decided to let him, and was glad she did. He was good - very good.

After several minutes of a wonderful snogging session he had begun working his way down her body, lips, tongue and fingers doing things to her she'd only ever heard of much less experienced. By the time he had finally reached her center, she exploded in the first ever male induced climax of her life at the very first lick. It had been astounding!

To her very great and welcoming surprise he had continued, doing things to her that only her own fingers had ever done before, and he took his time. By the time he once again brought her over the top she had been a whining, moaning, writhing mass of flesh begging for release. Once he had given it to her, she'd lain exhausted and panting for breath … and he'd started again! This time though he'd shown her what the benefits of being with a parselmouth were! In very short order she'd been screaming his name and trying to drag him by his hair up to take her in the way she wanted to be taken. Begging and pleading, saying things she would never have dreamed of saying to Lucius, he had and she thought she'd died and gone to paradise as they both found release at the same time. She would never say what they had done was make love, but it had been the best sex of her life.

She was honestly surprised later as they lay quietly that she hadn't shredded the bed linens beyond all repair.

After a long rest she had aroused him once more with teasing fingers and light caresses, rolled him onto his back, thrown her leg over his waist and, as she kissed him, lowered herself onto him for a session that was just as good in its slow, gentle way as their last joining had been in its hard, frenzied, rough pounding … and just as satisfying. They had fallen into an exhausted slumber with him spooning into her.

So here she lay, naked and feeling incredibly relaxed and good about herself after a night of so many firsts she quit counting, but one she would remember for the rest of her life.

Opening her eyes she noted the dim light coming in the window, reckoning it must be around dawn. She raised her head, not that she wanted to, and searched around the bed for Harry. He wasn't there, or in the room that she could see. Figuring he had already risen for reasons of his own, and feeling far too comfortable and relaxed to do so herself, she lay her head down, closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

When next she awoke it was to the sound of splashing water. Sitting up, she looked over to the door leading to the bath. It was ajar, as if whoever had tried to close it hadn't noticed that it hadn't. With a wicked little thought she threw off the sheets covering her and slid out of bed. She actually felt naughty, _naughty! At my age!_ she thought, padding naked across the room to the door. Quietly stepping through, she could see Harry's blurred form through the water and steam streaked glass of the shower door. He was washing his hair and hot water splashing off his head sprayed onto her as she stepped up and wrapped her arms around his chest from behind, ran her hands up and down his taut, firm torso and wrapped her right leg around his, rubbing it up and down. "Good morning." She said lustily, nibbling his ear lobe.

He chuckled as he turned in her grasp. "Good morning. Finally decide to get up?" He asked as he slid his hands around her and down to cup her cheeks, pulling her to him.

"You weren't there, so I had no reason to." She replied, pulling his face down into a passionate kiss.

He returned it then pulled back with a smile. "I thought I only paid for last night?"

She smiled back at him, "You said until after breakfast, and I don't know about you, but I haven't eaten yet!"

She added two more firsts to her growing list: in the shower and standing up.

She finished the last bite of her breakfast, a large waffle topped with glazed strawberries, whipped cream, plain strawberries, more whipped cream in the middle and a single cherry on top, put her fork down picked up her milk and leaned back in her chair before taking a sip. "That was delicious."

Across the table Harry grinned at her. "I'll be sure to let Winky know."

"Is that what you eat every morning?"

A quick shake of the head. "Only on special occasions. You ate it like you were starving to death."

She smiled sadly. "There are expenses when living in Knockturn that have to be paid, and some of them take precedence over little things such as food."

"I'd have thought, being who you were, you could command a higher price for your … services."

"I was informed quite early in my stay there, and quite forcibly, there was a hierarchy in the alleys and new people didn't just walk in and start taking business away from those who had been there longer. Everyone started off in the same way and worked their way up, which meant being in the dives where prices are low, and the women are inexperienced. You don't want the customers to order a choice cut of meat and get offal after all do you?"

"Let me guess … Clarisse?"

Her eyebrow quirked upwards. "You know her?"

"Never met her, but her name came up quite regularly in regards to your profession. She seems to have quite the influence."

She shrugged and finished her milk. "She kept things civilized. There are rules in the alleys, and she makes certain they're enforced. Just how she does that I don't know, but she does, and the working girls are a lot safer for it."

She set her glass down. "Now, what about me? Why pick me for your woman? What's so special about me that you come down to Knockturn Alley and sweep me off my feet to a life of luxury and ease?"

"I thought it might be the revenge part."

"That too." She smiled at him.

He grinned back at her. "Are you saying yes to my offer?"

"Harry, you had me at 'clean sheets' last night. You have absolutely no idea how that sounded so heavenly."

"You didn't act like it at the time."

"That's because you were scaring the hell out of me at the time. You might not realize just how creepy you are in that outfit."

He smirked. "Why do you think I wear it?"

"Point. Now, about those plans of yours?" She really wanted to know what he was up to and how they were going to get revenge on the people who had wronged her. He'd said he was going to change the wizarding world but she wanted details.

"Before I tell you, two things: one, should you meet my other guest, be nice and be careful. I don't know quite how they'll react to seeing someone new."

"I thought you said they already knew about me."

He smiled wryly. "I also said the two of us almost killed each other, they were in a very bad place for a while and that they were better. I'm not a mind healer, Narcissa, so I really can't say just how 'better' they are."

She nodded, acknowledging the point. "Alright, and number two?"

"Other than a few weeks for a vacation around Europe, I want you to stay here at Potter Manor, on the grounds or in the house. No outside visits. I don't want anybody knowing where you are until the New Year."

Stuck in isolation for six months? Was he crazy? Well, never mind that question, he'd already hinted if he wasn't he'd come awfully close. But still … "That's over five months, Harry. What possible reason could you have for that?"

She had to admit his smirk was the most self satisfied facial expression she'd ever seen as he replied. "Because, even though the Ministry has sent me an invitation every single year, this will be the first time I go to their New Year's Eve ball and I want your reintroduction to society to fall on them all like a hammer blow."

"Ooooh! That is so positively evil! Having me show up on your arm after what I've been through and what those people did to me will be like poking them in the eye with a wand." She knew the smile on her face couldn't possibly look the least bit pleasant. "Knowing I'm your mistress will make some of those bitches break their teeth they'll be grinding them so hard in frustration." She was already envisioning the expressions she expected to see and the pleasure the sight gave her was almost illicit.

"Well, if the mistress thing isn't to your liking we can just say the money is for being my teacher."

With a wave of her fingers she dismissed that idea. "No, no, being your mistress will be a good thing for us." Wait! Teacher? What? Where had that come from? Comprehension of what he'd just said brought her out of her delicious little day dream. "Harry, what are you talking about?"

Leaning forward he rested his elbows on the table. "Last night you asked me 'why you?' It's because you're a woman born of high social status, you know everything there is to know about that status, you are single, at least to the extent your husband will never get out of Azkaban, you are in a situation you most likely desperately want to get out of, and you will do just about anything to do so. The fact you will get some measure of revenge on the people who helped put you there is also a very good incentive to help me. You have nowhere to go, no one to fall back on, and very little hope of getting back to what you were without my help. So, why not you?" He leaned back in his chair and spread his arms. "Look at me. I'm the Lord of Two Ancient and Most Noble houses, I have a seat on the Wizengamot with all the political power that comes with it, I control another and I'm rich but I don't know how to play the game. I'm muggle raised. I want to change the Wizarding World but without knowing the rules of the society you were born into, it's going to take a helluva long time to do it and I'm going to make far too many mistakes. You know the rules intimately but are powerless to do anything about it. Together we can both get what we want." He smirked again. "Besides, I take great enjoyment of the mental image of Draco's head exploding when he finds out I'm shagging his mother."

She was finally realizing what he wanted. Shaking her head at his juvenile words, though the thought was rather enticing after what her son had done to her, she said, "You want me to teach you how to be a Pureblood Lord."

He nodded. "Everything you ever taught Draco. Anything you never taught him but which would help me."

She was confused and not afraid to ask questions. "Harry, if you just wanted a teacher why the whole 'be my woman' thing? Why didn't you just ask me to teach you?"

"You have to ask?" He replied, grinning. "You're a beautiful, sexy woman and I really did want a sexual relationship with you." He suddenly looked down and began fiddling with his fingers. She could tell he was feeling guilty about the subterfuge. "I figured you could accept it if you were being paid, you know, sort of like you could say you only did it for the money if anyone asked." He sighed heavily and looked up at her. "Guess I really screwed up, didn't I? You can forget about the conditions of the sex and we'll just tell people about you being my mistress if you think that will help. Everything else though, the money, the room, that stays the same. You can stay here as long as you like."

Her low chuckle made him look confused. Quite frankly, she found his honesty refreshing. "Harry, you had every right to think the way you did. Let's be honest: I am, or rather was, a whore. It's not what I want to be, I don't like it but circumstances made me what I am. People will remind me of that fact, or refer to it behind my back, for the rest of my life regardless of whether I never do it again or not." She leaned over the table and took his hand. "But let's be clear. You made your offer in good faith because at the time I _was_ a whore and ready to jump at the chance and the money and there's no need to feel guilty about asking. To be truthful I'm glad you did."

His brows knit together. "Huh? Why?"

She laughed. "Because last night was the first time in my life that anybody, including Lucius or anybody I've been with in the past year, put my pleasure before theirs. I actually enjoyed sex for the first time. You made me feel wonderful and that made me come to you this morning and you did it again."

He was a deep shade of red now and looking down at his hands again as she heard him mumble, "I just wanted you to feel good and like doing it with me."

"Oh, you did that alright." She said laughingly. He looked up at her without raising his head but she could see the smile he had. "If you want sex with me, fine, because I certainly would like to have more with you. And I accept all of the conditions you mentioned. They don't bother me and I'm interested to see what happens. Now, what's this about a vacation? I'd think you'd want to get started right away."

"Well, it's more like a shopping trip."

She perked up immediately. Did he mean what she hoped he meant? "What kind of shopping trip Harry?"

"You need a new wardrobe." He explained.

 _Yes!_

"Of course, if you have new clothes you're going to need jewelry to go with them."

 _OH! Be still my heart!_

"And from what I've seen of women that means new shoes, probably a couple of dozen pairs if I'm right." He got a look of confused concentration. "Why do women need so many different shoes? Wouldn't just a couple of pairs be enough?"

She had to shake herself out of the wonderful dream she was in to answer his question, and found the smile on her face so big she almost couldn't talk. "It's a woman thing Harry. I'll explain it to you while I'm teaching you Pureblood practices." She looked at him so hungrily he actually leaned back in his seat with a look of concern. "Where will this vacation be, if I might ask?"

"I thought we'd start in Rome and work our way back by way of Florence, Venice, Monaco, the Riviera, Nice, Paris and then back for some time in London."

She was in heaven. In all her years married to Lucius she'd been to Paris twice and Nice once and here was Harry offering a grand trip from Rome back to London, and shopping! Even if he bought her a fraction of what she wanted she'd be happy. "We'll have to be careful no one who knows us sees us if you don't want people to know we're together." She said dreamily.

"That shouldn't be a problem. We're going muggle."

Her dream shattered so completely and so hard she could almost feel a pain behind her eyes. Wincing, she looked at him. "Going muggle? Why ever for?"

She gave him credit: he was trying very hard not to laugh outright at how her expression had changed so drastically. "You just said it; we don't want anybody who knows us to see we're together." Then he did laugh. "Don't worry Narcissa; we'll nip into the local magical shopping areas here and there but most of the time we'll be acting like muggles. Trust me, you'll enjoy it."

"Harry! They're primitives! Backwards peasants barely above savages! Living like them will be torture! How will I survive without my magic?"

He smirked and shook his head. "Narcissa, they are not primitives and you will survive quite easily. As a matter of fact, where we'll be going you'll find it hard to believe you're not at your own home. I'll be there to show you how to survive and explain things to you. I really think you'll be surprised at what non-magicals can do. You'll even be able to spend any idle time you have being able to think about your revenge."

"That's another thing." She said sulkily, trying to think how she could possibly live without using magic for weeks, especially among muggles. "Other than my grand reentrance into the magical world you haven't said a thing about what this revenge is going to be."

He chuckled at her petulance. "In the muggle world they have a thing called movies…"

She looked up. "What's that?"

"Think of it as a magical painting that tells a story, like a play." He explained. "Now in this movie one of the characters says to the other 'the best way to get back at rich people is by turning them into poor people.' Is that the kind of revenge you'd be interested in?"

She stared at him in shock for a few moments at the sheer brazenness of the idea. Was it possible? Could he do it? But then her mouth started to curl up into a wild, predatory grin as she considered the possibilities, as well as the irony of it. "How are you going to do that?"

"Let's just say it will be a lot easier than a lot of people think it could be, especially when the people who control the money supply are on your side." His grin matched her own in its wildness and predatory nature.

It took a moment for the implications of that statement to sink in. "You got the goblins to help you?" She asked in disbelief.

His expression grew slyer. "Oh no, I never said they were helping me. I said they were on my side. There's a difference, especially when dealing with goblins. They won't help me bring down any pure blooded houses, but they won't stop me if I can come up with a way to do it." He stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there are things I need to get done today and I need to get dressed so I can be about them." His smile turned a little roguish. "Unless you'd like to watch?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

She laughed at his antics. "No, not right now. I'll leave you to your dressing."

"Alright, as I said, your room is right across the hall and if you need anything just call Winky. You may explore all you like, but again, please don't go into the east wing."

"What about my things back at the Randy Boar?"

"Is there anything you really can't do without? I'd like to make your disappearance from society as mysterious as possible." He chuckled. "It will make your return just that much more dramatic."

She thought about what she'd had, a few articles of clothing, much the worse for wear now, some cheap cosmetics, maybe two sickles and a few knuts in a small hidey-hole she'd found and a bottle of water, none of which she now needed. Even the money she could do without since Harry would be paying for everything. She decided it wasn't worth the trouble to retrieve any of it and as he'd said leaving it all there, and Suzy witnessing her seemingly willing departure with the Shadow Man, would raise all sorts of questions. She smiled at the thought. "No, there's nothing I really need. It was just habit to think about it. I've discovered lately the less you have, the more possessive about it you are." She rose to her feet as well. "I'll leave you to your business and see you later."

She crossed the hall to her room and found one quite similar to Harry's, other than the color scheme was different. It was a light two tone blue she found quite pleasing and while the furniture wasn't exactly the same it was arranged in much the same way. Smiling to herself she wondered how often she would get the chance to use it for its intended purpose. Opening the door to the walk-in closet she found it was in no way even close to full, not that she had expected it to be, and to her surprise held muggle as well as wizarding clothes. Ignoring the muggle items for now she set about getting dressed, luxuriating in the feel of clean new clothes. At least, new to her.

Exploring the house took most of the morning and she was delighted that the sense of hominess, the feeling of warmth and comfort she'd first felt on her arrival, permeated the entire structure. It was so different from Malfoy Manor, with its cold stone architecture and foreboding feel. She knew she was going to enjoy living here. She even found a portrait of her great aunt Dorea Potter nee Black in one of the sitting rooms and had a delightful talk with her and her husband Charlus.

After a light lunch of salad and fruit, prepared by an elf named Tibbin, whom she hadn't yet met, she went outside to see the large patio area and gardens. The patio was like an extension of the house, warm and comforting only without the walls and ceiling, with tree shaded areas to sit and read, talk or just enjoy the day. It bordered a large swimming pool on three sides. The gardens were exact opposites of the ones she had known at Malfoy Manor. Those had been classically formal, all straight lines and fanciful designs. These were made to appear as if they'd grown the way they were naturally. Flowers and decorative shrubs and trees lined meandering paths criss-crossing the grounds, leading to sheltered benches, statuary or topiary figures in the most unexpected places.

One path led her to a large barn, behind which she could see a large fenced field holding several horses. She saw a stallion, a beautiful chestnut color, and two mares, one possibly with a foal, peacefully grazing.

"Does the Lady wish to ride?"

She nearly jumped aside as the unheard approach of the elf startled her. Collecting herself she looked down at the small being. "No thank you." She replied. "I was merely admiring them. Are you the stable keeper?"

"Yes, Lady." The elf replied with a nod. "I be Dabbit, Potter stable keeper."

She turned back to the horses. "You do wonderful work. They are truly magnificent looking animals."

"Thank you, Lady, thank you!" He said, getting a large smile at the praise. "Dabbit care very much for them all the time."

Leaving the beaming elf to continue her explorations she saw some rocky looking hills off in the distance, behind a stand of trees so large she didn't know whether to call it a true forest or not. Other stands surrounded the house, interspersed with fields and pastures. At the edge of one of the stands she could see a small house, probably a groundskeeper or gamekeepers. She thought she could see a stream as well, but didn't feel like walking that far in the rising heat of the afternoon.

She was in the smaller of two libraries she'd found looking at titles when a pair of hands gripped her waist, slid around to her stomach and up to cup and gently squeeze her breasts as lips nuzzled her ear. Laughing, she turned in his grasp to face him. "Harry! What are you doing?"

"I thought that was obvious." He replied, his hands sliding down her back to cup and squeeze her bum. "I'm looking to see if you're up for a little afternoon delight."

"Here? Now?" She laughed in disbelief.

He waggled his eyebrows at her again, wearing a lecherous grin as he proceeded to back her up towards a desk in the corner. "Why not here and now? Do you have some activity planned you haven't told me of? If you do, I bet I can make you late for it." His lips kissed and nipped their way from her ear down her neck as she bumped into the desk behind her.

She shivered at the erotic feel of his teeth giving her little bites. In truth, it was the newness of the situation that was causing her hesitation. Sex had always been a bedroom activity for her. Other than a few times at Hogwarts while she was still in school, she had engaged in it at night, in the bedroom. Any romantic fantasies of doing it any place else had been forgotten years ago. Even in the Alley, that was the way it had been.

But, as he gripped her bum, picked her up and set her on the desk then began opening her robes, his lips causing chills up and down her spine, fingers touching and caressing, she thought _why not? Who's to see, to care?_ She knew how good a lover he was, how good he made her feel and that feeling of forbidden naughtiness was back, as if her parents might come in and catch them in the act. She giggled in delight as his thumb flicked an exposed nipple and she caught his lips with her own. Feeling needy now, she undid his belt and pants, pushing them down and opening herself for him.

There was no long bout of foreplay this time, not that she needed it she was surprised to find, before they were joined and she rode him to her first climax in a remarkably short time. But not his, and they each took from and gave to each other until he moaned in a pleasurably deep note as he filled her, which in turn ignited her second, making her cry out as well.

As she sat on the edge of the desk, panting from her exertions and listening to his labored breathing, her forehead leaning against his, she reflected on the last twenty-four hours and how her life had changed. She realized he was a horny young man but she liked the way he treated her and found that she was a more sexually open person than she had ever believed. She actually liked it and wondered what else he might have in mind. She chuckled. "You know Harry, I think I could spend the rest of my life in bed with you."

She felt him tense, going stiff as a board for a bare second before relaxing again. She pulled her head back and looked at him with concern, wondering what she had said wrong. "Harry? Are you all right?"

He smiled as he looked back at her. "Sorry about that. You just brought up a memory I haven't had in a long time."

"Something painful?" She asked, hoping she hadn't damaged her relationship with him.

He laughed lightly. "Just the opposite really, but a little shocking and nothing I want to talk about right now. But it's getting to be dinner time. I'm certain Tibbin has some wonderful food ready to be eaten, Winky won't want us letting it get cold and we're both a mess. So let us be about getting cleaned and straightened up and go eat." But before he stepped back he reached up and brushed a lock of hair back. "Do something for me?" He asked.

"What?"

"Let this grow."

She laughed. "You like long hair on your women, Harry?"

His grin told her everything she needed to know. "Yeah. Sometimes short hair styles look nice but I prefer long hair. You can do so much more with it."

"How long?"

"Till you can sit on it?" He sounded hopeful she would agree.

"Will you help me comb it when it gets that long?" She teased.

His grin mellowed to a wistful smile. "Yeah, I'd like that."

His answer surprised her. Then she remembered Miss Granger's had been to the middle of her back. Had he combed hers for her? "Alright, no cutting my hair till I can sit on it. Now, about dinner?"

He stepped back and with a wave of his hand they were both cleaned. Redoing their clothes he escorted her to the dining room.

Dinner was excellent and they sat and talked afterwards, she sipping wine, he drinking butterbeer. Their talk was mostly about what she needed to teach him about pure blood society but drifted into other subjects as well, such as travel arrangements. She was delighted at how insightful his questions were about many things. It was nice he could make idle conversation without being boring.

Finally, though, he looked at his watch. "I'm afraid I have to leave you now, I've business that needs taken care of. I hope to see you later, if not then in the morning." He got up from the table.

"Business at this hour?" she inquired.

He gave her a sly smile. "The kind of business the DMLE takes a dim view of."

"The Gray Man stalks the shadows?"

"Exactly." He smiled as he replied. "You might want to get a good night's rest. I would like to leave tomorrow about mid-morning. Don't worry about clothes, Winky knows what to do."

She smiled brightly, thinking about their upcoming trip, magic or no magic. "I'll be ready."

"Then, until the morrow fair lady, I bid you adieu." He gave her a sweeping bow and left the room to her laughter.


	4. Chapter 4: Vacation and Epiphany

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron or anything else in JKR's wonderful world. Except for the little pebble just to left of the front doors of Hogwarts. I put that there. I might own that. Maybe. But probably not.

* * *

 **A/N: This is mostly fluff and filler but it is necessary to the story. You'll see why.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Vacation and Epiphany**

She stood looking out the window overlooking London, a glass of excellent wine in her hand, smiling. The stereo was playing Mozart, Bach, Beethoven and other classics in the background and for that one piece of technology she was ready to admit the superiority of muggles. To be able to hear such joyous music as if an orchestra was in the room with you was a joy she had never been able to contemplate before. She had found and seen so many things she'd been unaware of and she knew even if they were going back to the magical world, the muggle world would never again be a place she shunned. For now, however, she was considering what she wanted to be wearing when Harry returned from a bit of business he had, or if she even wanted to be wearing anything at all. Harry had made it a memorable vacation and she wanted to make the end of it just as memorable.

This was the last day of their vacation and she knew she would remember it for the rest of her life. She had thoroughly enjoyed herself over the last month and being with Harry had only made it better. His fascination with the world around him was infectious and she had found herself engaging in activities she had never believed she would ever do in her life.

((((((OOOOO))))))

Their vacation had started the next morning when Harry had side along apparated her to somewhere in London and hailed what he called a cab. She'd been very surprised at how quiet it was and didn't smell at all as she'd learned in Muggle Studies class. The interior had surprised her even more: roomy and very comfortable and even quieter. Harry had told the driver to 'take the scenic route' and she'd gotten her very first look at muggle London. Her first impression was its size: it was huge! The city just went on and on, passing site after site of historical importance and significance, from London Bridge to the parliament building and Big Ben, Nelson's Column in Trafalgar square to what Harry said was the London Eye, a giant Ferris wheel and Buckingham Palace.

In addition they passed numerous parks and buildings and the crowds! She couldn't believe the number of people she saw. They made a crowded day at Diagon Alley seem like a deserted street.

None of which prepared her for the Heathrow Airport terminal. Hogwarts Castle was the largest building she had ever seen, disregarding the Ministry as it was underground, but the terminal was absolutely massive, easily able to put Hogwarts inside with two or three Diagon Alleys along side with room left over for Hogsmeade.

How Harry had found their way to the gate where they were to depart from was a complete mystery to her. He'd pointed out signs with numbers and letters but they'd meant nothing to her as they walked.

When they'd gotten to where they needed to be they'd been shown into a special lounge area, one reserved for first class passengers. First class she understood; evidently the term meant the same in both worlds.

Then she had spent the next half hour standing in front of a ceiling to floor window marveling at the airplanes. When she'd taken muggle studies in school she'd been taught that yes the muggles could fly but the vehicles were flimsy wood, wire and fabric contraptions that could only carry one or two people and were more likely to kill you than get you to your destination.

Reality beggared the imagination. Some of the behemoths she could see outside the lounge window could carry hundreds of people, at speeds more than three times that of the fastest broom, at altitudes no broom could reach and were some the safest modes of transportation the muggles had. Harry pointed out the one they would be taking parked at the end of a long gangway and while it wasn't one of the largest she could see, neither was it one of the smallest. She asked why so many sizes and was told that the larger planes could fly for thousands of miles and were therefore scheduled for the Americas or the Far East or any place at long distances. The small ones were for local flights, from within Britain itself to Ireland or into Europe.

When they were boarded she was astonished at the comfort of the seating. Large and roomy she felt she wouldn't mind having one at home. Harry also showed her how to adjust it, how to use the lighting, which was electric and brighter and steadier than any candle she had ever used, how to adjust the nozzle for a blast of cool air if she became too warm and how to turn it down if she got to cold.

Her favorite though were the head phones he gave her and showed her how to change the channel of the radio. Most of the music did nothing for her but then she found the classical music and found herself in heaven. Brahms, Bach and Beethoven were playing and it was clearer than anything she'd ever heard on the Wizarding Wireless.

They were finally pushed back from the gate and the roar of the engines surprised her. That was nothing compared to when they actually took off, however. She still didn't understand how they worked but she could feel the power as she was pushed back into her seat by the acceleration. It thrilled her as the nose lifted and the plane left the ground at a steep angle of climb, much like a broom but without the wind in her face. Sitting by the window she watched as the Earth fell away from them, objects on the ground getting smaller and smaller. She asked Harry how high they were going and he replied 'somewhere around thirty thousand feet'. After all the wonders she'd seen that day and all the shocks she'd received, the astounding number didn't even phase her.

She'd watched as they left England behind to cross the Channel and over France, or maybe Spain, Harry didn't know which, before the sparkling waters of the Mediterranean appeared below them. The comfort and the speed of the plane were impressive, much better than any broom, and the altitude astounding and best of all she didn't have to endure any wind blast in her face.

She felt guilty as they came down to land in Italy that she'd practically ignored Harry for almost the entire flight so avidly had she stared out the window at the world sweeping by below them.

The ride from the airport to the hotel in Rome was a lot scarier than the one in London: Italian drivers were crazy! It had been like every vehicle was the Knight Bus.

The hotel however was magnificent and their suite luxurious, as good as or even better than anything she'd ever seen in any Noble pureblood's home. The amenities and furniture were astoundingly similar to what she knew in the magical world and in some cases, better. The lights for example; unlike candles or torches with their weak, flickering flames, muggle lights were bright, steady and easily turned on or off with the flip of a switch…once Harry had shown her where the switches were. Also unlike their magical equivalent they were adjustable, from a low romantic dimness to a bright, shining brilliance easily suitable for reading.

She hadn't believed him when he said he'd ordered dinner from something he called 'room service'. She'd seen him holding a little brick like thing up to his ear and talking but it hadn't _done_ anything. He'd laughed and told her she could order the wine and handed it to her. Pushing a series of numbered buttons on it that he supplied she placed it to her ear like he had done and almost dropped it when a voice sounded! As clear as if they were standing beside her someone asked how they could help her and after a moments' surprise she told them which wine to send along with their dinner. Harry explained how the telephone worked, saying with just the numbered buttons and the correct code, or phone number, she could talk to anyone in the world with it. Marveling at the device she recalled all the many hours she'd had sore knees and an aching back from kneeling with her head in a fireplace. With this she could sit down and talk… anywhere!

Harry had shown her the small kitchen in the suite and she realized the muggles could duplicate cooling and freezing charms with the refrigerator and heating ones with the stove. And the microwave could heat a cup of tea almost as fast as her wand.

When their dinner had arrived she was surprised to see it delivered by a person. She hadn't known what to expect and with the things she was seeing and finding out she wouldn't have been surprised if the food hadn't just appeared like it did at Hogwarts. It was delicious, better than anything she could remember.

Harry explained about the staff, how they would come into the suite and clean and make the bed, replace used toiletries and used glasses and basically do what house elves did, only they were paid. They were also on call if they needed something such as more towels and such or just to answer any questions they might have.

She fell in love with the stereo. It was even better than the radio on the plane and with what Harry called speakers hidden around the room it sounded like an orchestra was right there in the room with them. Harry was still trying to get her to listen to anything other than classical orchestra music.

But the television was what held her fascination the most. It had news, local and worldwide, sports of every type and most that she didn't recognize but no Quidditch, game shows, plays, what Harry called movies, and informational programs. He also showed her how shows could be recorded and replayed, like a pensieve, and saved to see over and over again. She would have spent hours sitting and flipping through the channels if there hadn't been so many other things to do.

The bed was gloriously comfortable and after Harry had turned down the air conditioning, another example of muggle cooling and heating charms, they'd properly christened it before snuggling into the warm comforters and sheets for one of the best night's sleep she could remember in years.

The next morning, after another room service delivered meal, they began their investigation of the ancient city. The Coliseum, the Forum, all of the normal tourist destinations were visited. The Trevi fountain was magnificent, only to be upstaged by the paintings and architecture of the Vatican and Sistine chapel. Which in turn were upstaged, in her opinion by the soaring dome of the Pantheon with its spectacular Oculus. Built without magic it had survived over eighteen hundred years, in and of itself a most remarkable feat. That fact humbled her like no other had so far, muggles creating such a structure not surpassed or even equaled, magical or mundane, by anything in England.

Museums were avidly visited and she promised herself she would return in the future so she could spend much more time gazing at and admiring the fantastical artwork and displays.

She found that being surrounded by hundreds of muggles didn't bother her nearly as much as she'd feared it would, the clothing Harry having packed for her allowing her to blend in effortlessly. The language barrier was no problem either as most of the people at the various attractions weren't Italian either and everybody seemed to know some English. She felt herself slightly embarrassed that most of the people knew her native tongue while she knew no other language.

After four days in Rome, and they still hadn't seen everything, they'd traveled around Italy enjoying the lush views of the countryside and seeing the renaissance sights in Florence before traveling to Venice and its canals. Harry had taken her on evening gondola rides and she had loved the view of the city as the sun set and it began to light up for the approaching darkness. Sightseeing and sampling the culinary skills of Italy took up their days.

Then it was on to Milan where sightseeing and eating had to make way for shopping – a lot of shopping. They hit the fashion houses and boutiques like a tidal wave and she had to restrain herself because if she wanted it, Harry bought it. She realized when Harry said she needed a new wardrobe, he meant it. She had come to see the muggles had a fashion sense that bordered on the astounding. She had never seen so much skin in public in her life. She'd seen women in outfits that would scandalize magical England and get them labeled as slags at the very least, sluts and whores more likely and men that made her wish magical England dressed like that. She'd seen formal gowns that seemed to float, and others that hugged bodies like paint; dresses where bras were unwanted, unnecessary or unable to be worn, while others seemed to be only bras. But there'd been elegance as well, as well as sexiness and sensuality. The sheer number of styles rocked her and while she didn't really approve of women in pants she'd seen many who wore them quite well, although short shorts definitely seemed to be advertising for her recently left profession.

And the swimming attire! She knew she was blushing the first time she saw a bikini and Harry told her it was not underwear but a swim suit. She thought he was joking until she'd seen a beach crowded with people wearing them. Or not, at least the top. She couldn't believe how easily the people accepted topless women on the beach or how willing those women were to expose themselves. Harry laughed and asked her if she were offended by the muscular young men in their tiny little suits. She actually blushed at the thought even as he pointed out there were also a lot of women wearing one piece suits, from sleek, sexy racer cut styles to more matronly styles with skirts and everything in between.

And it was at the beach she learned one of his secrets: Harry liked underwear – or rather, women in their underwear; at least what looked like underwear. She saw him looking at the women on the beach and realized he liked looking at them, and not just the topless ones, the figure hugging suits drew his attention as well. So when they went clothes shopping she made a point to gather her courage and ask him to take her to a boutique that sold nothing but lingerie, something she'd never have done with her husband. The fact there was such a place surprised her. The staggering number of _styles_ nearly overwhelmed her. She'd considered lace bras and knickers risqué until she saw what muggles considered ordinary. She'd had trouble deciding where to even start looking until she noticed Harry looking at the displays. Taking that as her inspiration, she'd begun trying things on. Then she'd gotten an idea and peeking out the fitting room door to see if Harry was alone she'd opened it wide to get his opinion. His wide eyes and wider smile told her all she needed to know. With a laugh she closed the door and proceeded to tease him with different looks and styles and the _colors_! Other than black and white and shades of both she'd never imagined an entire rainbow to choose from. Her pile of intimates had started growing and that was before she even got to the nightgowns, night clothes, stockings and garter belts. Lacy and racy she found herself enjoying herself as Harry gazed at her hungrily. Fortunately she found that Harry didn't care for slutty or vulgar, but more sensual or sexy styles he loved.

Later, at a fashion house she'd gotten daywear and casual wear – dresses, skirts, blouses, shirts, shorts, she'd seen how comfortable they looked, sweaters, jackets and coats. Again she'd teased Harry, laughing as he'd threatened retribution. But he'd also steered her towards party dresses and outfits as he told her he planned on going to some clubs in France.

Swimsuits. She hadn't thought she'd ever be seen wearing something like that in public but Harry had insisted and she'd ended up with over two dozen, bikinis and one pieces. They were going to the south of France and people went swimming there he stated, end of story. She hadn't been swimming since she was a child and then it had been sky clad with family or just strip down to her underwear with friends. But she'd insisted on getting some she approved of.

But it hadn't been only the muggle side of fashion, they went magical as well. With sunglasses, something else she found she liked with their endless array of designs, and her now dark locks disguising her looks they visited the town's magical quarter and its boutiques where everyday robes, evening robes, formal robes and any others she thought she might need were obtained. That was all they got in the magical district as they didn't want to take a chance someone who might know them would see them.

Harry then surprised her by taking her shopping for jewelry and she couldn't believe her eyes. Rings, bracelets, necklaces, pins in every precious stone available and of a beauty and a quality she'd thought possible only with goblin wares. She was tempted to buy out every store they went into, because Harry's purse was a bottomless pit of wealth and he wasn't shy about getting her what she wanted, but she stamped on her greed and only picked pieces she loved. She also knew there would be other stores further along their vacation route and she really didn't want to push Harry about it considering how nice he'd been about everything.

All in all she was really surprised how much Harry seemed to enjoy shopping. Almost to a man every male she knew put up with it as a necessity to outright hating it. Harry however loved going storefront to storefront to see what was there, then going inside if something interested him. He would sit and wait of her for hours as she looked at this and that giving her his opinion on whatever she was thinking of buying.

Especially the shoes. She was in heaven as they shopped for shoes. Slippers, sandals, flats, pumps, and boots she tried to explain to him why she needed a different pair for each outfit. Why they had to be color coordinated even if they weren't going to be seen. He understood why she would need slippers at home and heels out for a night on the town, sandals for outdoor activities and flats for casual wear, but a dozen pairs of the same style and look in a dozen different colors? Or a different style and look for a different outfit? She just laughed and shook her head mumbling about male incomprehension about the important things in life.

Finally leaving Milan they went south to the port of Genoa where she had received another of Harry's surprises. They'd departed the train station by chauffeured limousine, just like they had at the other cities, but this time they didn't go down to the hotels in the city, they went through the city to the waterfront. When she'd asked Harry where they were going he'd only smiled and told her to wait and see.

It was only when they pulled up beside a beautiful, sleek, white with gold trim yacht did she see their accommodations for the next few days. At just over thirty meters long the _Maiden of the Sea_ was a floating mansion, a very luxurious mansion. Her décor put some pureblood homes to shame with marble flooring in the dining area, plush pile carpeting in all of the interior spaces, leather upholstery, dark walnut paneling and woodwork and as Harry put it, loaded with all the modern conveniences. It was absolutely gorgeous and she fell in love with it immediately.

Harry had called ahead and the chef had dinner ready shortly after they boarded and like every where they had stayed so far the food was delicious. Over the next few days she would come to believe the girl who served them, a pretty blonde from Norway named Lisele, had to be part house elf because she hardly ever saw her but everything was always straightened up, put away or taken care of and when she did see the young woman it was almost as if she'd popped in like an elf in response to a call for something. She always had a smile, spoke politely no matter what time of the day or night she was summoned and did her job to perfection. She decided if she ever had to live like a muggle and needed a servant she was going to hire her.

Harry had been even friskier than normal that night, coming up behind her and encircling her waist with his arms before she'd even finished undressing. Having discovered just how much she liked sex with someone who was as considerate of her pleasure as their own, she made no protest at all as he nibbled her earlobe while he quickly got her down to her bra and knickers. They were in the center of the huge king sized bed moments later snogging like teenagers and she was all prepared for a nice hard pounding. Tender and gently was nice on occasion but she'd found she really preferred her sex hard and passionate. What she hadn't expected was to suddenly feel magically conjured ropes wrapping around her wrists and ankles, pulling her taut in a spread eagle position in the center of the bed. Harry had leered at her evilly at her question of what was going on and gave a single word explanation - "retribution". He had then produced a dagger of all things and proceeded to cut her knickers and bra away from her body, which slightly pissed her off. She'd just bought that outfit and had really liked them. He had steadfastly ignored her demands to let her go and then the torture began.

For two solid _hours_ his fingers, lips and tongue had brought her to the edge of ecstasy only to back off just below her peak and let her calm down a bit only to start all over again. By the time he was finished she was a quivering, sweaty, pleading, desperate, needy pile of flesh. When he finally plunged into her she screamed her release in pure orgasmic fulfillment. She had never felt anything so good.

Afterward she lay panting for breath, exhausted and barely able to move. Harry held her in a close cuddle as he whispered into her ear. "Now, are you going to tease me again?"

She smiled as she answered enthusiastically. "Oh, sweet Merlin, YES!" He laughed as he held her as they drifted off to sleep.

((((((OOOOO))))))

She licked her lips at the memory of that night. It had been wonderful, despite being totally helpless, or maybe because of it. They'd had sex many times but that time had to be one of their best.

((((((OOOOO))))))

They'd only stayed in Genoa for two days before they'd departed. Harry said they were going to Monte Carlo but they were taking the scenic route, going south past Corsica and Sardinia, down past Sicily and around Malta then back north on the west side of Sardinia and Corsica to Monte Carlo.

For the next week she was in heaven. There was always something new to see, on the land they passed or on the sea they sailed on. Occasionally they would stop and drop anchor and Harry introduced her to the sport of snorkeling. She wondered why they couldn't just use the bubblehead charm but he reminded her they were with mundanes. She came to love swimming along the surface with the mouthpiece of the pipe between her teeth, breathing easily as they seemed to fly over the sea floor below them, diving down to take a closer look at anything that piqued their interest. Sometimes they dived off the _Maiden_ itself, other times one or two of the crew would break out what they called a Zodiac, a rubber raft kind of boat with a hard bottom in the middle and a motor on the back, which they would use to get closer in to shore when the yacht couldn't.

Once, they'd stopped at a secluded beach and the Assistant Engineer had dropped them off and returned to the yacht. They'd had a wonderful picnic lunch, with wine and sodas since they had no access to butterbeer, and spent the afternoon exploring the small cove they were in, having a thoroughly exhausting round of sex and talking.

She'd started out wearing some of her more modest one piece suits, feeling like she was deliberately exposing herself to any who saw her, but Harry certainly didn't seem to mind. As she noted how he seemed to eye her hungrily the suits got more daring, then smaller. With his looks, caresses and touches and his complements on how she looked she tried a bikini, though she did use a wrap Harry had insisted she buy. Loose and flowing, she felt like she was wearing a skirt and bra. It wasn't long however before just the swimsuit was all she had on, and feeling comfortable about it. Until Harry would take it off, though she did have to admit she usually ended up taking his off as well.

Dinners however were dress up time, at Harry's insistence. Breakfast, lunch, snacks, he didn't care what they wore or nothing at all, but dinner was different. Whether formal, casual or anywhere in between, they were always fully dressed when they sat down to the evening meal.

Evenings were for other activities. Sitting out under the stars, soaking in the Jacuzzi, reading, talking, any or all of the above, or her favorite, watching movies, night time was easy and relaxing.

Well, except when they watched movies. Harry had made sure the _Maiden_ had been well stocked with DVD's for the television. He'd taken her to a theatre in Rome and she'd been amazed, both at the movies themselves and the idea that an entire building was constructed just so hundreds of people could sit together in the dark and watch them. She liked all kinds, but loved action movies, the more explosions the better, especially the _Terminator_ and _Die Hard_ series, the former for the strong heroine and the latter because at the end of the movie John McClain _looked_ like he'd been through a war, unlike other heroes who could fight entire armies and come out without a scratch. She enjoyed them so much she found herself cheering at their triumphs, bouncing around in glee as they destroyed their enemies, moaning in sympathy at their losses, and throwing her hands up in exasperation as they ignored her warnings of danger ahead. Harry sometimes had to remind her they weren't wizard paintings that could answer her back.

Harry liked horror stories however, and she was absolutely convinced the writers of some of them were actually wizards with sick, perverted imaginations of the darkest sort of demons for some of the monsters and creatures they came up with. She actually squealed in terror when the little alien exploded from the crewman's chest, slapping Harry's chest as he laughed at her. She admired the Predator's honor though. It may kill you, but at least you had a fighting chance.

They ate popcorn and drank sodas, two new loves in her life, as they watched. She liked kettle corn the best for its sweetly salty taste and Diet Pepsi because regular was just too sweet for her taste. She'd had popcorn before, but never like this and the Pepsi was a cold, flavored drink like fizzy Champaign though Harry assured her it was completely non-alcoholic.

She enjoyed their evenings immensely.

She was awed once again by the mundane's achievements on their second day at sea when she looked up from breakfast to see a ship through the window in the dining area. It was _gigantic_. She'd thought the _Maiden_ was big, but the blue and white behemoth going in the direction they'd come from dwarfed their own craft. It was a moving island and if each of the windows below what she could see were balconies was a room or suite it must hold thousands of people. Harry explained it was a cruise ship, for people who were on vacation and wanted to see different parts of the world. He explained how there were a lot of things to do on board between ports and how people were catered to. She thought she might like to go on a cruise sometime when her told her there were different cruises all over the world.

That wasn't the only large ship they saw; they passed tankers and freighters, some larger even than the cruise ship and she was astounded to hear they carried thousands or hundreds of thousands tons worth of cargo, bound for destinations around the world.

They did stop several times themselves at different ports to spend time ashore sightseeing, on Malta to see ancient castles and fortifications and towns on Sardinia and Corsica for shopping and change of scenery.

The day before they arrived in Monte Carlo she was sitting out on the deck reading, Harry taking a nap on one of the couches inside, when Lisele brought her an iced lemonade. Curious about the young woman she'd asked her to sit and talk a while. What she heard astounded her.

Lisele was Norwegian and at the age of sixteen had begun working at a local ski resort. Maintaining her studies while holding a full time job she was made assistant manager by the time she was eighteen. Moving to the continent shortly thereafter she had worked her way south, stepping into several management positions at three influential hotels in Germany, France and Italy over the next eight years before being offered the General Manager position at the one in Italy.

Due to her wanderlust however she had turned the position down and moved on to her present position with the yacht rental agency. When asked by Narcissa if that hadn't been a large demotion considering her previous jobs she had laughed and agreed but it suited her better. She got to see and do more and it wasn't like she was just a maid and waiter. She was also the paymaster, the purchasing agent for the yacht for everything from engine parts to crew uniforms to the non-perishable foodstuffs for the kitchen to various sundries such as towels and linens or anything else the ship might need. She also was the scheduling agent for fueling and major maintenance that might be required as well making sure the crew billets were always filled and getting them filled if they weren't. She was also tasked as the liaison with the rental agency for voyages requested by clients. All of that in addition to filling any requests the clients might have, insuring docking facilities were available at any port of call the clients might wish to go to and seeing to any customs requirements that might come up.

Narcissa had just stared at her in shock. To have all of that responsibility in the magical world, or even a quarter of it, would have been unthinkable for a woman. It just wasn't done. When she said she would have thought most of that would have been the captains responsibility Lisele politely informed her that his job was to drive the boat, getting them from point A to point B safely while obeying all of the maritime laws and regulations. She may have had the say about anything that happened _on_ the boat, but anything that happened _to_ it was all up to him.

Narcissa was still trying to digest the fact that muggle women could do a lot more with their lives than magical ones could when she was shocked yet again by the young blonde: she asked if Narcissa had brought her wand along with her.

She laughed as Narcissa had just gaped at her in total surprise before using her finger to trace a lightning bolt on her own forehead. She explained she'd once had an English roommate who had been just a little careless and let her catch her stirring her tea – without touching the spoon. A confession soon followed and she'd learned about the English magical world and one Harry Potter, who had signed the rental agreement with his own name.

Assuring her the Statute of Secrecy was safe with her she'd left the older woman reconsidering the muggle world, and muggle women's place in it.

Monte Carlo had been exquisite. After a leisurely morning with a late breakfast Harry had escorted her to a chauffeured car and they had gone someplace called a spa. Harry had talked to some of the people there and she'd heard him telling them she had no idea what to expect, then turned to her and told her to enjoy herself and he'd see her for dinner, and then left her!

If she hadn't been so shocked she'd have been terrified: left in the custody of muggles! Two women had her follow them and then given her a robe, told her she could remove her clothes in a small room and when she was ready to come back out.

That was when she found out what spa meant: pampering to the extreme. Over the next few hours she was massaged, steamed in a sauna, and massaged again. Harry had given her back rubs and massaged her shoulders but compared to these women he was a complete and total amateur. Manicure, pedicure, facial, fruity little drinks while it was being done, anything to make a woman feel like she was a queen was done to her and she loved every minute of it. A hair stylist was next, followed by a professional makeup artist and when finally she'd looked in a mirror she'd been speechless. She'd always been told she was beautiful and she'd always believed it but now she knew that had been just a pale reflection of what beauty was. She thought the woman staring back at her from the mirror had to be a goddess, because it certainly couldn't be her.

She'd been sorry to be directed back to her dressing room until she'd seen what was waiting for her: a matching set of black lace knickers, garter belt and stockings paired with three inch heeled open toed black sandals. At first she'd wondered about the missing bra until she'd realized it was built right into the cross-front halter top gown. There was enough cleavage to entice any man and she shivered at the erotic feel of the open air on her back as the dress plunged clear down to the small of her back.

Diamond and sapphire rings, ear rings, necklace and bracelet completed the ensemble and as she looked at herself in the mirror she'd had to admit, if she'd been a man looking upon herself she would be sorely tempted to commit rape.

Thanking her minders profusely she'd gone back to the front of the spa to find Harry waiting for her in a black tuxedo that did oh so tingly things in her nether regions and the look he gave her only intensified the feelings. He'd told her she looked ravishing, given her a light kiss on the cheek so as not to smudge her lipstick and then escorted her out to the car where they were taken to what Harry said was a five star restaurant. She later informed him if the number of stars equated to the quality then it had been far underrated. She'd never had that kind of service, ever, even with house elves and the food had been unimaginable.

From there it had been to the famed casino and she had relished the looks from the men there as they passed them and a few from women as well. She saw beautiful women everywhere and was happy to say she didn't feel outclassed by any of them.

They had wandered around for a bit admiring the artwork and the casino itself, as well as other men and women, before stopping at a game Harry had called Black Jack. She had never cared for card games before, thinking them to complicated, but she was intrigued when he explained it was simply a matter of getting as close to twenty-one as possible without going over and getting higher than the dealer doing it. He explained the ace was worth one or eleven, the face cards were ten and all the others were face value. They watched for a bit as others played before they took seats as well.

She watched as Harry gave the dealer a wad of money from a wallet he pulled from inside his jacket and received a large pile of chips in return of which he gave half to her.

Half an hour later he was muttering about her beginner's luck as she had nearly tripled her pile of chips while his was almost gone. She laughed at him and pushed a large pile over to him. That was the way of it for the next hour. She was enjoying herself immensely with her winnings as he good naturedly asked her how she could possibly be cheating as he wanted to try it himself. The gods of luck were totally against him as he would get a nineteen and the dealer would get a twenty. A twenty was beat by twenty-one. If he won one hand out of twenty he was lucky, while she seemed to win every other one at least.

Finally announcing she was ready to leave she pushed half her winnings onto the table and sipped a glass of Champaign as she turned over her hole card to reveal a queen to accompany the king already out. Foregoing to double down she watched as the dealer turned over card after card to finally beat her with a twenty-one on the fifth card. She laughed as the crowd that had gathered to watch them all groaned at the loss, then pushed a tall stack of chips to the dealer for the fun she'd had.

They walked to the entrance and she shivered at Harry's touch on her bare back. She returned the favor when they got into their car, placing her hand on his crotch and giving him a sultry smile. She could feel his appreciation under her hand as he hardened, but since the yacht was only a few minutes away she didn't have any time to do anything else.

As they entered the main salon she unhooked the halter of her gown and when Harry turned around to say something to her she was pushing it over the curve of her hips as she eyed him hungrily. She stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck as she pressed her breasts into his chest and gave him a searing, passionate kiss which he was soon returning. When they broke it she gave him a wicked smile and went to her knees before him. In only seconds she had his trousers and boxers around his ankles, to find him stiff and tall, ready for her attentions. And give him her attentions she did: licking, kissing, nibbling and handling his shaft and cradling his bollockss, she teased him mercilessly before she had opened her lips wide and taken him in. She heard a hiss, then a moan at the feeling she gave him before she felt a hand resting on her head. Only a minute or two later and he was trying to pull her off but she was adamant: this was about HIS pleasure first, not hers. He groaned loudly, holding her head tightly as he gained his release, nearly falling to the floor. She looked up, watching him as he spent in her mouth. It was hard smiling in satisfaction in that situation, but she managed.

((((((OOOOO))))))

She took another sip of wine as the sun sank below the horizon, the sky a blaze of reds, pinks, oranges and yellows as she remembered that night. She had known Harry would be able to give her what she wanted after she finished with him and he had – repeatedly, and she'd loved every minute of it.

Maybe that was how she should meet him upon his return, dressed only in garter belt, stockings and heels, on her knees and ready to greet him as he walked through the door. She felt so deliciously submissive in that position and though she didn't care for that particular feeling with any other man, with Harry it was different. She felt safe in giving in to feelings like that, knowing he wouldn't take any advantage over her save what she allowed.

Hmmm, yes, she thought with a lascivious smile. That would be the thing to do.

((((((OOOOO))))))

Harry had surprised her for the rest of the trip – he had driven. He told her he'd gotten his license a couple of years ago and that for now they would forego the expensive hotels and restaurants, though shopping would be as they found it.

She'd had her misgivings at first but after two days she couldn't think of a single reason she'd been so worried. They stayed in small hotels and inns and except for the style of furnishings they'd all been wonderful. Some had been slightly smaller than she preferred but since they mostly only slept in them that was a small detail she banished to the back of her mind. They were clean and comfortable and like the more expensive ones service was better than she would have ever believed, if not quite as extensive. One bed and breakfast they stayed in was an adorable two story house tucked away back from the road and hidden so that she could imagine she was in seventeenth century France and not have anything to belie that belief. The proprietors were a sweet older couple that actually made her feel welcome in their home. Etienne had a wicked sense of humor as he tried to make her blush and Suzanne's dinner rolls were to die for. Their room had an air conditioner and, after she turned it to cold, a large bed with a warm down comforter, and she had given Harry a lot of comforting.

Twice she accused Harry of being lost and both times he replied he wasn't lost, he had just changed their destination. She had laughed and teased him about it for hours.

She really didn't blame him, though. The country was huge! Having flooed, apparated or portkeyed from place to place her entire life she had never appreciated just how much space there was between one place and another or how much there was to see.

They stopped in tiny villages and large towns, traveling with the top down on the car and seeing the sights and tourist attractions. They enjoyed an open air concert in one town where they stayed, and stopped in to local movie theatres in others.

Harry introduced her to French fries and she suddenly had a new addiction after popcorn and soda. She loved them. She could sit with one of the little folding red boxes and eat them one after another. Her favorite new phrase became 'Drive-thru.'

And the people! She had never believed she would have been comfortable in the presence of so many muggles but she found walking the streets of small towns and villages shopping was no different than wandering along Diagon Alley. The language barrier gave them problems occasionally but she could see no difference between the people she met and the average witch or wizard. They acted the same way, smiled, frowned, and looked angry or sad, only their clothes distinguishing them from wizarding kind.

Paris had been wonderful. They spent their days seeing the sights, all of the special attractions that all tourists went to see. The view from the top of the Eiffel Tower was exhilarating and the art and the history at the Louvre was stunning in its beauty. Notre Dame was awe-inspiring and when the great bells rang she could almost imagine Quasimodo pulling on the ropes. They went on an evening boat ride on the Seine and enjoyed the lights of the city after dark.

And of course they went shopping. By now muggle shopping was as exciting as magical. Clothing and jewels, bags and shoes, knick-knacks and snacks; she even bought a souvenir Eiffel Tower.

And of course there was eating. All the best restaurants, street vendors, street side cafés, all of the various foods and styles were new and exciting.

When it was time to leave she laughed at Harry when he told her they were taking the train back to England. She reminded him that there was a little stream called the English Channel in the way and how were they going to get over it? He smiled at her and said 'magic'.

It wasn't until she saw signs announcing the channel tunnel that she realized he hadn't been joking: the Muggles really had actually succeeded in digging a tunnel under the English Channel linking England with the continent. Harry explain to her how two great tunnel boring machines had dug the tunnel from both ends at the same time meeting under the fabled waterway to finally accomplish what had been talked about for 200 years. She was astonished at the achievement knowing that no witch or wizard would even contemplate such a thing.

The trip through the Chunnel, as Harry called it, had been as fascinating as it had been boring. While for the most part there was nothing to see except gray concrete walls the idea she was actually _under_ the English Channel had her excited, especially when Harry wondered out loud what would happen if the tunnel sprang a leak. He'd laughed at her horrified expression making her hit him on the arm for scaring her but when he'd said "Welcome to England" as they emerged into the bright sunshine she'd felt as if she'd completed an incredible journey.

They'd finished their vacation visiting all of the places in her country's capitol they'd seen while in the cab a month before and many others as well. Westminster cathedral had taken her breath away and the view from the top of the Eye was awe inspiring. It was the first time in her life she really understood her country's rich heritage.

((((((OOOOO))))))

Yes, it had been a wonderful vacation, a high point of her life and she would have wonderful memories of it for the rest of her life and contrary to her every doubt and expectation Harry had been absolutely right: with every new thing she had done, every new place she had gone and seen, she hadn't needed her wand at all, not even once.

With that thought she froze, eyes widening with shock and fear as the fine wine she'd just sipped turned to vinegar on her tongue and her knees went weak and began to shake, forcing her to set her glass down and steady herself on the nearby table.

Only one thought raced through her mind: _She hadn't needed her wand one single time!_

((((((OOOOO))))))

He was a nondescript looking sort or person, not to tall not to short, brown eyes and straight black hair parted in the middle with skin tones that suggested a Mediterranean heritage. His only real distinguishing feature was a small scar under his right eye. He liked to tell people he'd gotten it in a knife fight but truth be told it had been when he'd tripped in his mother's kitchen as a child and fell against the corner of the table.

Not that he hadn't been in knife fights but none of them had left scars. He kept this one only as a remembrance of the care and concern he'd gotten from the woman who'd abandoned him shortly thereafter to run off with a supposedly rich lover. He hadn't seen her since but he promised himself when he did, _she_ would remember as well.

None of which had anything to do with the meeting in which he found himself right now. Truth be told he was finding himself a bit nervous in the presence of the person sitting across from him, both because of who he (she) was, the Shadow Man, and what they were sitting on – the wall.

He himself was a moderately powerful wizard and was well aware of both featherlight and sticking spells. But the person before him hadn't bothered using a wand to do it, much less be bothered to even say the spells as they merely leaned against the wall and pulled their feet up under them. That sort of thing bespoke of power with capital letters. Along with the reputation he had it was a situation he'd rather not be in. But greed always was his downfall and here was a way to fulfill it in very large amounts.

"You have the list." The raspy voice was sometime hard to understand.

"Yes, I have it and your patrons will supply the seed money?"

"Already in a vault for your use." That faceless visage was really creeping him out. "Even the goblins are unaware of how it will be used. You may keep any profits you make beyond the stated amount of return."

"That could be quite a lot more than their initial investment." He replied suspiciously. He may be a con man but he wondered if he might not be being conned in return.

"The people you will be associating with can be not nice to people they feel have slighted them." Came an explanation. "Think of it as a bonus for the hazards you might encounter. Plus, the incentive to get all you can will be that much greater."

That it would, he considered. "Then I think our business is concluded. I shall commence the operation in a few days."

"Good."

He watched as the gray clad person pushed off of the wall, spinning as they fell and apparated before they hit the floor without so much as a whisper.

((((((OOOOO))))))

Harry came to the door of their suite after having run his errand. He hadn't wanted to mix business with pleasure but tonight had been a scheduled meeting for months but the vacation had run longer than he'd planned so he'd asked Narcissa's forgiveness, which she'd given, and gone. It was time to get things rolling now that he had his final pieces.

Opening the door he was surprised to see only darkness on the other side; no lights were on. Thinking she might have fallen asleep, or was waiting to surprise him, he called out. "Cissa?" There was no answer.

Without turning on the lights he moved out of the entry way and into the room. On a small table beside the large window looking out over the city and a view of the London Eye off in the distance he saw a wine glass, partially full. "Narcissa?" He called out again.

"How badly can they hurt us, Harry?"

The words came from the darkened room before him. They were quiet, subdued, even scared sounding, like a child afraid of what might happen, but not enough to sound frightened. "Cissa?"

"The muggles, Harry. How badly can they hurt us?"

He saw her then, huddled into the end of the couch, arms wrapped around knees drawn up so she could rest her head on them, hiding in the dark.

Damn. While the trip had been exactly what he'd said it was, a vacation, he'd had a secondary purpose for doing it: to expose the pure blood raised woman to the world of non-magicals, to let her see they were _not_ the backwards savages she had claimed only a month before. He wanted her to see what they could do, what they had achieved and learn what they were capable of. He hadn't expected her to go in this direction though. He'd never even brought up any military topics, other than a few war memorials they'd looked at in France. He should have realized she might have thought about it though considering her life experiences. But it did solve one of his problems. "Are you alright Cissa?" he asked as he sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace.

"I haven't used my wand in a month, Harry; I haven't _needed_ to." She said into his chest. "They can do so many things I only ever thought wizards or witches could do and so much more we can't. How dangerous to us are they really?"

He sighed, deeply. He really hadn't wanted to end their vacation like this but now that she'd asked the question she deserved an answer, especially if he wanted her to help him.

"I honestly believe that if we gave them a reason to, like another war with the likes of another Tom Riddle, they could utterly destroy us."

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the cliffy and please forgive any historical or geographical mistakes I may have made on my journey through southern Europe.**


	5. Chapter 5: Walks, Talk, Spies and Kink

**In Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron or anything else in JKR's wonderful world. Except for the little pebble just to left of the front doors of Hogwarts. I put that there. I might own that. Maybe. But probably not.

 **Chapter 5: Walks, Talks, Spies and Kink**

" _I honestly believe that if we gave them a reason to, like another war with the likes of another Tom Riddle, they could utterly destroy us."_

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him in horrified disbelief. "No! That can't be possible!" she exclaimed, shaking her head. "Even with how much they've advanced they couldn't possibly destroy us!"

"Cissa, do you remember the war memorials we saw in France?" he asked her. "The ones with the tanks? Could you blow a hole in one of those? Or even slow it down?"

She had to admit she couldn't. "No."

"No average magical could. The cannon could go through any shield or ward and the machine gun could put five holes in you before you could get even half your spell out." He told her. "That equipment was from over fifty years ago. What they have now is far better, bigger, and more powerful than any of those. The artillery cannons they use now can hit you from miles away and you won't know where the shells are coming from. Their soldiers wear armor that can stop a bullet; our best shield can't do that. They have devices that can let them see and fight in almost total darkness and through smoke and fog. They carry automatic weapons too and can shoot you from far out of range of any spell you can fire at them. And there are a lot of them. Their military alone outnumbers us a minimum of four-to-one and that's not counting the reserves or those with military experience that can be used."

"Their communications far outstrip anything we have. A patronus takes seconds or minutes to get a message where it needs to be. Their radios and telephones are instantaneous and can speak to hundreds of different people at once in different places. The sender of the patronus could be dead before the message even got to where it was going."

He hugged her closer. "What did you think of the plane we flew on?"

"It flew so high and fast." She answered in a tiny voice, her mind being overwhelmed by Harry's descriptions. "It was better than any broom."

"Imagine that plane converted to carry bombs and not people." He said quietly. "Imagine there are doors in the bottom that will let the pilot drop those bombs out of the plane on any target the pilot wants. You'd never know they were coming until they were exploding around you. They also have missiles they can drop from hundreds or even thousands of miles away that will fly right to the target without any help from the people who launched them."

"But they wouldn't even be able to see us from that high!" she exclaimed.

"'Cissa, back in '91 they had a war in Arabia. They had videos of bombs hitting their targets from planes that were even higher than what we were flying at." He replied, putting the lie to her statement. "They could guide the bombs so accurately they could put them through a specific window or down a chimney. They use a camera they can zoom in with from high altitude and if they can see a target, they can hit it."

She stared at him in horror, his words terrifying her. If it were true, if they could hit a target from that high then there was nothing they could do to stop them. Brooms couldn't go that high and no spell could reach them. If they really could hit any target they could see then…

"Harry, they can't see us!" she exclaimed excitedly, hope rising within her. "They can't see though our wards and…"

Something was wrong. She could see him shaking his head in the dim light as he pulled her into an even tighter embrace. "They have a new kind of camera." He said. "It lets them see right through any ward or glamour, any kind of optical illusion really."

She was shaking her head now, unwilling to believe what he was saying. "That's not possible." She denied. "It's _magic_!"

He sighed heavily. "When I had left the magical world after the trials I went around the world, trying to forget. I would've stayed gone if I hadn't found something. What brought me back was a magazine I found in an airport terminal. It was a photography magazine and one of the articles inside was about satellites and how they could photograph the Earth in so many different ways. You remember our talk about satellites?"

She did. She'd wondered how the muggles could talk or send television pictures around world or how they'd gotten such good aerial views of the weather and he'd explained about how they put all different kinds of satellites into orbit around the world. She'd found it hard to believe but after seeing everything else the muggles could do she didn't doubt him. She nodded in response to his question.

"One of the pictures they showed was of London." He said. "The caption said it had been taken from over one hundred and eighty miles above the Earth and it looked so close you could see people in the streets…and Diagon."

She stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief. "No! That's not possible!"

"I didn't think so either but it was a muggle magazine. I shouldn't have been able to see the Alley but it was right there. I could see Gringotts and the tables outside Fortescue's and the courtyard from the Leaky Cauldron where the entrance to the alley is. I could see the whole thing and since it was a muggle picture I shouldn't have been able to."

"But how?"

He sighed again. "I don't know, not for sure." He stated quietly. "But the caption said it was an example of digital technology, like computers." He'd explained those, too. "The cameras don't use film like the older ones; they somehow save the pictures to a computer's memory and then send them down to another computer where they're stored until they're printed on paper. The old cameras put the image directly to the paper and that's where I think the difference is. They not only put the image on the paper, they put the magic of the ward on the paper so it was like you were looking at the real thing. But the new cameras don't do that. They somehow turn the image into electrical impulses, send it somewhere, turn it back into a picture and then print it. I think that somehow strips the magic away and leaves the true image which is what gets printed."

"But if it's just satellites…"

He was shaking his head again. "It's not. Hand held digital cameras are a really big thing." He explained. "They're expensive but anybody can buy one. I bought one."

"Did you try…?"

"I've got pictures of the Leaky from outside the wards, Potter House, Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, they all show up perfectly. I tried my own wards and notice-me-nots, every kind of concealing spell I could find and nothing worked. The only thing that came close to working was when I took pictures of Grimauld Place under the Fidelius but it was only partially successful. Up close the image was blurry but you could still see it. Get farther away from it and zoom in on it and it was like there was no charm at all on it."

She shuddered against him, frightened by what he was telling her. "Merlin. So all they need to do to find us is take pictures and when the picture shows something they can't see, there we are."

"It's easier than that."

She turned her head to stare at him in shock. "How?" she wanted to know. "How can it be easier than that to find us?"

He didn't answer her, merely shifted his eyes to look across the room and when she turned her head to see where he was looking saw the "Television." She breathed out in alarm. "It works the same way, doesn't it?"

"I honestly don't know why we haven't been discovered before now." He replied. "It has either been more luck than we can possibly deserve, most warded places are too far out of the way to be noticed or we have been seen and the government has stepped in to suppress the evidence." He sighed. "Your way would work as well: take two pictures at the same time using an old style camera and a new digital one and compare the two. The picture I saw in the magazine was a civilian satellite; I'll bet the military ones are a lot better."

With a sudden chill she hugged him a little tighter.

((((((OOOOO))))))

They didn't have sex that night, merely gotten undressed and into bed. Perhaps feeling her distress Harry spooned into her back and put his arm around her, holding her close and trying to comfort her. It helped a little but she slept poorly, unremembered dreams, or perhaps nightmares best left unremembered, disturbing her night.

The next morning they had a light breakfast, called Winky who took their luggage home, took the elevator down to the lobby, where Harry paid the bill, and then simply walked out into the streets of London. They didn't have a destination in mind; they simply walked and talked for the next several hours. They discussed many topics from the new digital cameras and what they meant to the statute of secrecy, to the military capabilities of the non-magical world and what they would mean to any fight between magical and non-magical people and to many things they had seen in the non-magical world during their vacation that she hadn't given much consideration on until her revelation of the night before. She now realized the non-magical world hadn't outdone them in everything. Transportation was one example. The use of port keys, apparition and the floo network far outstripped anything the non-magicals had in terms of speed. However, the amount of bulk materials and people they could move at one time was absolutely staggering and once Harry had explained helicopters to her she saw they could put anything just about anywhere they wanted in a short amount of time.

Potions and medicine were much the same way. Muggle medicine could cure or alleviate a wide range of diseases and illnesses but while the overwhelming majority of wizarding potions were of the medical type there were still many that could do other things as well.

However, Magical astronomy was just a sick joke compared to the vast array, and different types, of telescopes that allowed the Muggles to observe far into the vastness of the universe and to understand what they observed. They had sent vehicles to the different planets and even landed automatons on some of them that allowed them to explore and study what they saw. Communication was another subject in that category. Other than the wizarding wireless, which was only in one direction and therefore quite useless for a two-way conversation, they had nothing that could match the worldwide system of communications and TV, radio or even the common telephone the Muggles had.

While Muggles could duplicate many of the charms, such as heating, chilling, light and many others and their computers could solve complex arithmantic calculations in mere seconds that would take a wizard hours, or even days, to do, transfiguration was the realm of the magical world alone. Its very existence flew in the face of everything the Muggles thought they knew about physics and natural law.

While she was pleased there were some things that magicals could do and the muggles could not, she had to agree with Harry: if it ever came to outright war between the two societies the magical world was doomed. Too many purebloods just wouldn't believe the muggles would be able to beat them convinced as they were of their own superiority by right of magic. It might be a long drawn out fight but the sheer numbers of the non-magical people and the materials they had available to them would ensure the outcome.

As they continued walking their talks turned to Harry's plans and what he wanted to do to change the magical world, to drag it out of the mid-19th century and at least into the late 20th century in order to prepare it for when it was discovered and discovered it would be. She now knew for certain it was only a matter of time before that happened and when it did if it wasn't ready the culture shock alone would destroy it.

She thought back to a question she'd had earlier but hadn't asked. "Harry, if they did attack us, how do you think the muggles would do it?"

"If they _had_ to attack us, I think they'd do it the same way Riddle did." He told her. "They'd target the Ministry first. Take that and they'd control the magical world." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I think they'd send in people, wizards and witches, first to have them ready to move when things started. They'd want to take the Floo Control department, the Minister's office and the DMLE as fast as possible when the main force moved in to take the Atrium."

"They'd control all of the floos and ways in and out of the building." She said, following his reasoning.

"Exactly, and with control of the Floo department they could cut off all floo travel except for what they wanted to use. They'd also have control of the magic detection network which would give them a good idea of where magicals were. But I think they'd just seal off the Department of Mysteries; they wouldn't want to tangle with the Unspeakables until they had to."

"Wouldn't there be a lot of deaths? I've seen movies, Harry. Those muggle weapons fire so fast they could kill a roomful of wizards before they could even get off a hex."

He chuckled. "They don't work like that 'Cissa. They wouldn't want to kill anyone they didn't have to. Most magicals aren't terrorists and they _are_ British citizens after all. The first ones in, the infiltrators, would probably be all magical and they'd use stunners. They probably wouldn't give any kind of warning at all. Put their targets down and secure their objective would be their goal, especially Floo Control. Take that department and they could start bringing in reinforcements behind the lines so to speak. Any muggles coming in with nothing but muggle weapons would most likely call for anyone they find to drop their wands in the name of the Queen. Anyone who didn't would be considered hostile and dealt with. But I don't think the muggles would be the front line. They'd have wizards and witches doing that simply because they _could_ stun. The muggle forces would most likely be the backup and there for specialized jobs."

"Why would they take the chance though?"

"They're not barbaric, 'Ciss." He replied. "They're fierce, argumentative, warlike and ready to fight at the drop of a hat, with a propensity for violence that boggles the mind, yes, but they're more civilized now. They have laws, rules and regulations they must obey and they'd be fighting British citizens, many of them innocent civilians who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They don't just indiscriminately kill people now. They're highly trained not to have to do that unless it's absolutely necessary. They'd know every square inch of the place, who would likely be there at any given time of the day and what to expect from them. They'd probably have trained for months in an exact replica of the place so to be ready for any situation."

She was confused, not at what he was saying, but at what he was implying. "How would they do that?" she wanted to know. "How would they have the knowledge to be able to do all of that?"

His reply shocked her. "Spies, of course." He replied nonchalantly.

She stared at him in disbelief. "Harry, the vast majority of them don't even know about us, how could they spy on us?"

He snorted. "Of course they know about us, 'Cissa. You just said it yourself: the vast majority." He replied. "Besides the parents of all the muggleborn and all of the contacts the DMLE has with muggle police forces to help in maintaining the statute, who do you think we signed the treaty that instituted the statute of secrecy with in the first place?"

She thought for a moment before she had the answer. "The government." She stated, wondering why that had never occurred to her before.

He nodded. "Exactly, and no government is going to simply forget about a large chunk of their population living within their borders, even if they can't see them, especially when they can do things that the rest of the population can't simply by swishing a stick around, things that could be detrimental to the safety and security of that population should they turn aggressive."

He gave her a moment to think about that and then went on. "According to a copy of the statute that I found in the Potter family library the Minister of Magic is required to report to the Prime Minister of her Majesty's government at least once a year to give a report of the state of the magical world. He will then in turn give a report to her Majesty to let her know how her magical subjects are faring. But if they've got any brains at all, and since they're non-magical I will assume they do, they're going to want to check for themselves as to how things are going. Considering all the things that have been happening the past few years, the fact that that useless waste of oxygen Cornelius Fudge was the Minister of Magic, that most of the pureblood wizards in charge of running the government looked down on non-magical people as something they stepped in on the sidewalk, I would be very surprised if anybody had talked to them and told them anything in years. If I was them I would think we had something to hide and would be very interested in finding out what that was."

"But Harry, what makes you think they've been spying on us?"

He shrugged. "Because it's what they do. They're paranoid." At the disbelieving look she was giving him he continued. "Look 'Cissa, there are three different groups of people that governments spy on. The first are their enemies because they don't want to be invaded and kicked out of power and worse. The second group is their friends to make sure they are going to stay friends and see what they're up to. The third group is their own population because they don't want to be surprised by a revolution. You have to admit, in the past thirty years we've had two magical wars where a lot of non-magical people were killed and the instigator admitted to planning on taking over all of England. That's treason 'Cissa, of course they're going to want to know about what's going on."

"But how do they do it, Harry?" She pressed. "They're muggles; until recently they couldn't even see most of the magical world."

He gave her a look that told her she was missing something as well as being obtuse and not really thinking of what she was asking. "'Cissa, besides the magicals that are probably working for them already, who were recruited by people who do know about us, there's a readymade group of people they can tap into for information and who would probably be happy to do it."

She looked at him not understanding what he was saying. Who was he talking about? Suddenly it hit her. "Muggleborn."

He nodded. "Exactly." He said. "They're looked down on by the purebloods, discriminated against, taxed more than the purebloods, merchandise costs more for them and usually the only kinds of jobs they can get are dead end Ministry jobs or the menial type that the pure blood like you don't want to do. Why wouldn't they spy on us? It wouldn't even really be spying. All they have to do would be collect the daily papers and write down what they see and hear every day. They could even help pick up people for questioning."

That sounded ominous. "What do you mean by that?"

"Think about it, 'Cissa. Say somebody wants some information from somebody. All they would have to do would be to trail their target, wait until nobody would notice, stun them, port key them to a place of their choice, dose them with veritaserum, wake them up and ask the questions they want the answers to, then stun them, give them the antidote, obliviate them and put them back. It could all be done in a matter of minutes and their target would never know what happened."

"But isn't that something that would be illegal even in the Muggle world?"

He chuckled. "They're the government 'Cissa, and governments have a habit of ignoring things that might inconvenience them. I doubt very much they're going to let a little thing like the law bother them if they think they really need those answers for the sake of their security and can get away with it. And there's always that old 'it didn't happen if we didn't get caught' thing."

She thought about that for a bit and had to agree that it could very easily be done. For somebody who lived in the magical world and knew their way around it wouldn't be very difficult at all. "But how do they find them?" She asked. "The muggleborn I mean."

"That's the easy part." He replied. "All they have to do is look for children who disappear from the public schools at the age of 11 and reappear at the age of 18 or older. They'll probably be looking to receive remedial education that they missed while they were in the Magical World."

"And we made it all so easy to do, didn't we?" She asked with a defeated sigh. "We gave them absolutely no reason to feel any loyalty to us or to our world."

"That's why we're going to change our world." He replied. "We're going to make it more fair and equitable for everybody and if we have to we'll drag the stodgy old traditionalists along with us into the world we create."

"But Harry, if we destroy all of the old traditions we could start a civil war amongst ourselves."

"We don't have to destroy them all, 'Cissa. A lot of them are nothing more than ways to keep the old line rich, pureblood nobles in charge." He shrugged. "Besides, a tradition is just something that's done because it's always been done that way. A lot of them are harmless things that help define our culture. But you have to admit there are a lot of traditions that we need to do away with, that we _have_ to do away with before we're discovered. Because once that happens we will be held to the law of the land and a lot of things that go on in the magical world will _not_ be tolerated in the Muggle one."

"Like what?" She asked, wondering what the difference between the magical laws and the Muggle ones might be.

"Discrimination for one." He replied. "Take the ministry for instance. Right now a pureblood who barely knows where the door to his office is will get a promotion over a Muggleborn who knows the job inside and out and probably does all the work simply because of his blood status; a Muggleborn just getting hired in the first place especially if they're vying for the same job as a pureblood; taxing Muggleborn more than purebloods for the same goods and services; the blatant favoritism in the legal system and the graft and corruption in that same system and the Ministry as a whole. If the magical world was discovered tomorrow and the Crown decreed integration with the rest of the government half the Ministry would be in prison by the next day and the other half under investigation."

"Then there's the blatant prejudice against werewolves."

"Harry, werewolves are dark creatures." She exclaimed. "They're dangerous."

"Narcissa," he stated in a tone of voice she'd come to learn said he was upset with her, "they're not creatures, they're intelligent human beings with a disease; a controllable disease. The kindest man I ever knew was a werewolf. They're only really dangerous one night of the month but they're under so many restrictions by law that many of them have to steal just to support themselves. If they have family it's even worse. Of course they have bad reputations. That's why we have to change things, get people to understand and change the way people think about them. We have to give them a chance to have a life, a good life, and show they're not dark or creatures."

"With an example like Fenrir Greyback that's going to be a hard concept to sell." She pointed out.

"Greyback was an aberration and a psychopath. He enjoyed what he did, reveled in it. He wanted to drag people down into the depths where he was and make them dependent on him. In his way he was just as bad as Riddle, wanting people to rule over, frighten and intimidate and because the law gave them no other choice, no better way to survive, he could. That's one of the reasons why we have to change things."

"Alright, I can see all of that, but it's still going to be a hard thing to do to convince people." She told him.

He shrugged. "Then we keep trying until we get them equal rights under the law because that's going to be the easiest battle."

She gave him a wary look. "What other battles are you contemplating?"

"Muggleborns, half-bloods, house elves, centaurs, goblins, any intelligent speaking race of people." He replied. "There can't be one set of laws for the purebloods and another for everyone else. The non magical world won't stand for it."

"Harry…!" she started to exclaim in protest.

He interrupted her starting to sound a little exasperated, even to her. "'Cissa, if we don't do it ourselves we'll be lucky if the Crown doesn't just send someone into the Ministry and declare the treaty of the Statute of Secrecy, and the separation of our two worlds, is ended and all laws pertaining to the magical world are null and void until they can be reviewed and approved and the magical world is henceforth subject to those laws of the Parliament, of which the Ministry would then be, as stated for all of the land."

She stood there gaping at him as he waited for her to get her wits back about her. "They can do that?" she finally asked.

He nodded. "According to the treaty that's all they have to do to end the treaty. They wouldn't need the guns and muggle weapons unless the magical world refused to submit to the Crown rule."

"It would be that simple?" she asked, not quite believing what he was saying.

"It would be that simple." He nodded. "That's why we have to change our society as fast as we can because that would be the most probable reason for the non-magicals having to take over the Ministry by force: it refused to obey the orders of the Crown. Which is where you come in."

She looked at him sharply. "What?"

"I'm going to be very busy in the Wizengamot and in the public's eye trying to round up support for all I want to do and I need you to help me gather information to help me do it." He replied.

"What kind of information?"

He shrugged. "Any kind that can help us bring down those people who would refuse to bow to the Crown and possibly resort to violence. News of how well or how badly any of our plans might be going; who's doing what to whom that we can use as leverage to help us get what we want. Those kinds of things."

"You want to blackmail people?" she asked incredulously. He really was going grayer!

He smirked. "I prefer to think of it as persuading them to our side of the argument." He replied.

Knowledge was power; how many times had she told Draco that as he grew up? How many times had her mother told her? She knew that she had to help him and the way he wanted her to do that was by gathering information. "Why would you need me to do that?" She asked, genuinely puzzled. "You could get that yourself in any number of ways."

He grinned at her. "Not this kind." He said. "I need you to use your contacts among the elite of our society and plug yourself into that great grapevine of gossip and rumors that exists everywhere in many different forms. Especially among the ladies if my experiences at Hogwarts is any indication. You never know when knowing somebody's dirty laundry will come in handy."

She had to admit how right he was about that. How many times had she done the exact same thing to further her or Lucius' own goals? "You want me to spy for you." It was just a simple statement with no hint of recriminations.

"It's not spying if they willingly tell you things." He said sagely. She shook her head and laughed in reply and especially at his expression as he said it.

"I just wish I knew who one of the non-magical government spies was so that I could get in contact with them." Harry said. "If I could get them to let me have some of the information they have it would go a long way in helping me find out what the important people are doing outside the country."

"Doesn't knowing who a spy is sort of negate their effectiveness as a spy?" she asked.

He sighed. "Yeah, but it would make it a little easier doing what I want if I could get some information out of them."

"If they didn't just obliviate you afterwards, like you said." She pointed out.

"I doubt they'd do that if we could establish a two way flow of information of what we each wanted." He replied. She noticed he sounded a little distracted. "After all, I'm a Lord, with access to a lot of information your average muggleborn or even halfblood could only dream about getting their hands on. I think an information exchange could be quite beneficial to both sides."

She realized he was looking over her shoulder at something across the street. Turning, she saw it was a large storefront with wide display windows and a sign reading 'Aunt Em's Corsetry and Leatherwear' over them. In the windows she could see mannequins wearing examples of the aforementioned items. There was a variety of each of the store's aforementioned wares.

"Let's go in there." He said, looking at her for her agreement, any talk of their previous subject obviously at an end.

"Why?" she had a bad feeling about this as she looked at some of the corsets in the windows.

"I'd like to look around and you might see something you like." He answered.

She could see where this was going now. She had worn corsets before, and hated them. The stiff boning and tightly laced devices had liked to suffocate her when she was younger at her mother's insistence and she'd sworn never to wear another after she'd gotten married. "You want me to wear a corset?" she questioned him.

"I don't know; we haven't looked at any yet." He replied with a grin, almost a leer.

"I am not wearing a corset." She stated firmly.

"Why not? Your sister wore one all the time." His grin was still in evidence.

"Bella was crazy." She pointed out.

Harry laughed. "For the past month we have gone into every clothing store, shoe store and jewelry store that you've seen and wanted to look at. Can't we just go into one that I want to look at and look around?"

She had to admit the truth of that statement. He had never once complained about all of the clothes shopping, or any shopping for that matter, she had wanted to do. "All right, we can go in but I will tell you right now I am not going to wear an ugly, uncomfortable, tight corset."

"Narcissa, corsets nowadays are not ugly or uncomfortable." Harry explained as he put an arm around her waist and guided her across the street to the store. "A lot of them are built right into dresses and gowns and they look really pretty."

She put her foot down. "I am _not_ wearing a corset." She firmly declared.

15 minutes later she was reconsidering that statement. Harry was right; a lot of the corsets weren't just pretty they were gorgeous. Obviously designed as more than just the foundation garments she was aware of, many of these were meant to be worn as outerwear. Few were boned and they were in any color she could think of and were made out of a variety of materials. There were also a lot of different styles, from simple waist cinchers to full bustiers, wasp waist to hourglass. The one she was looking at right now was shiny black leather with gold stitching. The mannequin it was on was also wearing skintight black leather trousers with strappy heeled sandals. She had to admit, it was very sexy looking. She didn't know where she would wear it except at home for Harry, or a night club like several he'd taken her to, but she was seriously considering buying it. There was also a beautiful royal blue one with golden fleur-de-lis embroidered on it that would go well with a long flowing skirt and jacket she had.

Likewise the leatherwear was as varied and beautiful as anything she'd ever seen. Any article of clothing she normally wore was reproduced in leather: skirts, tops, slacks, under garments, jackets and coats as well as normal leather goods such as boots, shoes and gloves. And while she'd thought the colors would be basically just black or brown, maybe some red, there was a veritable rainbow of hues.

She moved through the store, even as Harry moved in another direction, looking at the goods for sale when she noticed a dividing wall in back. It extended across the entire width of the store and had several doors through it. Over the closest she read 'Adults only'. Curious, she went in and immediately saw the reason for the sign.

A mannequin stood just inside, dressed entirely in leather, but not like the leather clothing in the front of the store. To begin with was the full body suit it wore. Black, she thought it was laced up the sides from the ankles; it was hard to be sure since the form wore high heeled knee high boots, to just under the arms. Those laced up the outside from the wrists to the neck which was surrounded by a wide black collar studded with steel spikes that secured the full head covering helmet. That laced up the back and had no openings for either eyes or mouth, only two small holes for the nostrils.

The arms of the dummy were pulled to the back and encased in a conical leather binder from the hands almost up to the shoulders and laced to pull the arms together. An adjustable strap went over each shoulder and under the arm to secure the device in place. An identical item was displayed on the wall to the side and labeled a 'single sleeve'.

The suit was crotchless and both breasts protruded through two holes in the chest of the garment. Arrayed around the mannequin was a variety of accessories for it, including different types of helmets, blindfolds, gags, collars, bras and crotch coverings. A display on the wall behind it showed different variations of the suit.

Mentally converting the prices shown for the entire ensemble into galleons she decided she'd much rather have the equivalent in fine jewelry.

Strolling up and down the aisles she saw many items of dress that she knew the owners of would probably keep hidden to be worn or used in the privacy of their bedrooms … or any other place behind closed doors and curtained windows.

For some small reason she couldn't quite explain she was pleased to note there seemed be as many ways to restrain, confine, constrict and restrict a man's privates as there were for a woman's breasts. Some of them looked quite painful and she could think of a few men she'd like to see them on…with no way to remove them. She was quite willing to admit to herself that this in no way had anything to do with her time in Knockturn; some of the men she was thinking of had deserved such long before that turn of events.

Just to be fair, she also admitted some of the women she knew would look rather nice in some of the gags that were displayed…or even some of those hoods or helmets.

Through a gap in the display racks leading to the next aisle she saw several female mannequins in body harnesses. They varied in complexity and coverage and moved to examine them. As she stepped through she happened to glance to her right and notice another customer…and immediately stepped back into the other aisle before she could be noticed herself.

 _Now what in Merlin's name is_ she _doing here?_ She wondered. _And dressed like a Muggle?_ She cautiously sneaked a peek. The woman was about her size with shoulder length auburn colored hair, in a knee length blue dress and matching wedges. A large brown bag hung from her left shoulder as she examined the display before her.

"Narcissa."

She spun quickly and pressed her hand to Harry's lips to quiet him as she looked back over her shoulder at the woman, to see if she heard them but she continued examining the display without any sign of having done so. Placing a finger to her lips to keep him quiet she again peeked around the end of the rack to see the woman picking up a box before looking to the right of the display and then picking up two smaller ones. She then turned and walked down the aisle and towards the front of the store.

"Who was that?" Harry asked quietly obviously curious about her actions.

"Rosamunde Westhaven." She replied as she started toward where the woman had been once she was certain she wasn't coming back. "She's the wife of Reginald Westhaven."

Harry followed her. "I don't think I've ever heard of a Lord Westhaven."

"That's because he's not a Lord." She said as she looked at the mannequin with the leather body harness on it. It started with a narrow collar with several straps attached to it coming down in front and back to a lattice of straps connected with silver rings. Each breast was caged within a cone of leather straps that were riveted instead of attached to a ring before coming up to a ring surrounding the nipple. Other straps criss-crossed the body down to circles of leather straps from the waist down to the crotch where a wider strap was drawn between the legs and buckled just below the navel. Here and there were smaller buckles for adjusting the fit of the harness.

All in all it reminded her of a one piece swim suit with a lot of the material removed. She briefly wondered what it would feel like wearing it.

"Hmmm, sexy." Harry said as he traced along a couple of the straps and rings of the harness. "Bet it takes a while to get into. Is she a friend of yours? And if she's magical what's she doing here?"

"An acquaintance," she answered, somewhat guiltily, "and I don't know. Reginald is a half blood and took his father's import business and built it up into a very wealthy enterprise. As I said, he's not a Lord but he's wealthier than some of them and has quite a bit of influence in the business world. His import/export business used to ship about half of all magical goods into or out of Britain the last time I had any figures. He took a lot of business away from the Greengrass Company when Lord Greengrass was killed during the second blood war. He met Rosamunde in America when he was there on business for his father. She's from a prominent pureblood family in New England who can trace her family back 10 generations."

"So," Harry said with a drawl "she's good enough to be at your parties but not good enough to sit at the head table."

"In hindsight she's better than anyone who ever did." She told him as she shifted her look from the mannequin to the table with small boxes that Rosamunde had taken two from.

"But she never did." He replied in a teasingly accusing way.

"Harry, you know what I was like." She replied as she picked up one of the boxes to examine.

He got a look of intense concentration. "A stuck up, snobby, full of herself, selfish bint?"

"Exactly and proud of it." She replied, before giving him a grin. "It's amazing the kind of attitude adjustment a year as a whore in Knockturn Alley can give someone, isn't it?"

He gave her a perplexed look. "You've changed?"

She gave him a sharp poke in the ribs. "Behave, you." She growled playfully.

He grinned back at her. "So, she's not on your hit list?"

"No. I have no doubt she would have taken us in if I had asked."

He got a perplexed look on his face. "So you'd rather be a whore in Knockturn than for your supposed friends, none of whom helped you at all, to know you're staying with a socially inferior family." He gave her a look. "That is a seriously skewed sense of social proprieties Narcissa."

"Harry, I was born, raised and lived in a dark, pureblood world where social stratification's were crammed into my head almost from the second I left the womb. Close association with a non-noble, neutral half blood just was not done even if he had a pureblood wife."

Harry had finally noticed what she was examining. "Is that what I think it is?" He asked.

"That depends on whether you think it's a vibrator or not." She smirked as she read what was on the box: 6 inch bullet vibrator.

"And it attaches to the crotch strap of that harness?"

"That's what the illustration shows."

"She took two of them." He stated.

"Yes, she did." She smirked as she looked at him, knowing what he was implying. "Makes you wonder what she was going to do with them, doesn't it?"

"Uuuhhh… Do you think she will?"

Merlin she loved the way he could show his naiveté despite how mature he acted sometimes. "I honestly don't know. I don't know her well enough to." She looked up at him with a sly grin. "Are you thinking about what it feels like if she does?" Actually, she kind of wondered that herself. With her toys she had made up for years of Lucius' inattention to her needs, but never in that way. Even in Knockturn that was one thing she had avoided, despite the greater price she could have charged.

He actually blushed as he asked. "What's all of this stuff for anyway?"

She chuckled at his attempt to change the subject, amused at his discomfort. "It's for bondage and restraint." She explained.

"Bondage?"

"Remember when you tied me to the bed on the boat? That's bondage. All of this is just different ways to increase the variety of ways you can do it."

"Hunh." He huffed. "People need all of these things for something like that? Gags, hoods, cuffs, straps…" He named off some of the items he could see, "… blindfolds, harnesses. Why so elaborate?"

"Why are you asking, Harry? Do you want to try it some more?" She asked in a sultry voice, stepping close to him. After the aforesaid time on the yacht and how he'd made her feel, she wouldn't mind at all.

He put his arms around her and pulled her close, obviously realizing she was trying to take the Mickey out of him. "Not particularly but why not keep it simple? Why go to such lengths?"

She laughed, putting her arms around his neck. "Some people like it that way. It enhances the foreplay, prolongs the anticipation. They think it's sexy, on both sides."

"So, do you think she and her husband are into it?"

"I have no idea about Reginald and I'm not going to speculate." She told him. "Rosamunde obviously likes it somehow but whether it's just her or both of them is none of my… our… business."

"And the whips and crops and paddles and cat of nine tales in the next aisle over?"

She heard the change in his voice: harder, rougher and she knew why. She'd seen the scars on his back. "Yes Harry, some people like those too, on both sides and for the same reasons." She responded in an even voice.

"What if the one on the receiving end doesn't want to do that?"

"Then it's wrong and should _not_ be happening." Her reply was very emphatic as was the scowl she wore.

Harry must've heard something in her voice. "You seem to know a lot about this, 'Cissa." He gave her a questioning look. "Why is that?"

"And you don't seem to know hardly anything about it." She replied, feeling it was her turn to try and change the subject. She really didn't want to get into a discussion about her husband and his preferences at this time. "As good as you are in bed, why is that?"

"That's because 'Dorm Room Sex Ed 101' pretty much stuck to the basics." He answered, looking chagrined even as he pulled her closer. "You know, boobs, bits, what they look like, how they feel, how they go together, that sort of thing. Getting it in the first place was much more important than thinking about how you were going to dress it up after you had it." He grinned at her.

She laughed, shaking her head at the images produced. Realizing her funk of the night before had vanished she gave him a light kiss. "Well, you know you can get it very easily now and if you want to enroll in ' _Bed_ Room Sex Ed 101' I'll tell you right now it's all hands-on training."

His eyes widened and he grinned widely. "Then what are we waiting for?" he said, turning towards the front of the store, pulling her along as she laughed.

((((((OOOOO))))))

"There's something I think you'll want to see." A video cassette was pushed into the machine and the play button pressed.

"What's so important about a surveillance tape? Did we have another celebrity get caught shoplifting?"

"Not a what, a who, and no."

Unlike many surveillance systems where the picture was grainy and in black and white, this was evidently from an expensive, high end surveillance system and was crisp and clear and in beautiful color showing a woman as she stepped around the end of a display rack in what looked like the adult section of the store. She took a step, then quickly stepped back while looking around the end of the rack. The scene froze.

"Recognize her?"

"Sweet Circe, Maeve, and Morgana! That's Narcissa Malfoy!" Surprise and disbelief were noticeable. "She's never been out of the magical world a day in her life; what is she doing in Muggle London and especially in my store? Where the hell has she been for the past month and how did she learn to dress so well in Muggle fashion?"

A laugh. "If you think that's amazing wait until you see who she's with. It will probably answer some of those questions." The paused picture began moving again. Maybe 30 seconds later a young man came up behind the woman. It was obvious he said something as she spun around and placed one hand over his mouth while raising her other hand with a finger to her lips in a classic shushing motion. As she lowered her hand the picture paused again.

"By Merlin's shaggy… That's Harry Potter!" The disbelief was evident in the exclamation. A chuckle, then, "Well, well, well. It seems the Man-Who-Won isn't quite as dead as some people would have us believe and he's involved with the wife of one of the biggest disgraces and scandals of the magical world. That definitely explains how she knows to dress so well. I wonder how he hired the Shadow Man to pick her up. "

"They seem to be quite familiar with one another." On the screen the two people were holding each other close.

"Yes, they do. It would seem the rumors that say she was rescued by a wealthy lover from a life of prostitution are a lot closer to the truth than the ones that say she was kidnapped to be a sex slave, or was killed for whatever reason. I wonder what they're up to."

"Maybe he's just playing white knight to her damsel in distress. He did speak favorably of her at her trial."

"Then why wait so many years to do it? Why send the Shadow Man to get her instead of getting her himself? No, she didn't want to be seen by whoever she was watching and didn't want him to announce their presence. That tells me they're, or rather _he_ , is up to something and doesn't want anybody to know they're together at this time, where they are or what they might be up to. Who was she watching? Could you tell?"

"Rosamunde Westhaven, making her monthly shopping trip."

"Hmmm, that explains why she didn't want to be seen if they're trying to avoid magicals but there was never any animosity between the two of them. They were even friendly toward one another. So if she didn't want her to know she was there it was either because she wants to stay hidden or he wants her to stay hidden for some reason and she's going along with it. Whatever, I think the magical world will be in for quite a shock when the two of them decide to reappear. I hope I'm there when they do." A pause. "Did she get anything?"

"Two outfits, one for clubbing and the other could be for a dress up occasion or partying depending on how she wears it."

"Hmm. Mister Potter certainly seems to have changed some of her attitudes about muggle dress, for the better, too. I wonder what else he's changed. Keep a watch and if they come back I want to know about it." There was quiet for a few moments. Another chuckle, then, "You've done well. Take one item of anything in the store as a reward. Might I suggest the harness with the half cups? They'll lift your breasts so nicely for the crop."

"I was thinking about the constriction bra."

"Mmmm, yes, that would be quite nice as well. You'll look enticing in either one of them. Why don't you take them both?"

"Thank you Mistress."

There was more laughter. "Oh, wouldn't Lucius enjoy hearing he's been cuckolded by Harry Potter!"


	6. Chapter 6: Memories 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron or anything else in JKR's wonderful world. Except for the little pebble just to left of the front doors of Hogwarts. I put that there. I might own that. Maybe. But probably not.

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Memories 1**

It had been two weeks since returning to Potter Manor and they had been busy. She had spent the first week in combing the Potter library finding reference materials for all of the things she would need to teach Harry in order for him to fulfill his role as Lord Potter-Black. She had then prioritized what he would need to know according to the plans he had for when he began his campaign against the status quo of the wizarding world. Parliamentary procedures of the Wizengamot were first; he planned to begin almost immediately to try and revise the system of laws that so hampered the evolution and advancement of the magical world.

Surprisingly enough to Harry, etiquette was second on the list, from how to greet someone formally or informally, to how to eat a formal dinner; how to interact with superiors, few though Harry had, in the social structure, to peers and subordinates. Finding how pervasive proper etiquette was in the magical world had dismayed him immensely.

To break up the tedium of those essentials she had breaks where they covered other topics such as family structures, from immediate family to extended clans, and how rank and power among the family was determined, among other things. Dueling procedures was another, one he took much more interest in.

Marriage contracts and the different types were among the list of subjects she planned to introduce him to as well as the laws governing how many wives someone could have and why. She was certain he'd have something to say when he found out as the head of two noble families and the last surviving male to pass down the name of either he was entitled, and expected to take, two. She was also certain there would be many offers.

She would also have to teach him the ways of gaining allies to his cause. He was pretty certain Lord Longbottom and Lady Bones would do so but that was only a start; he'd have to get many more on his side and the ways of doing that were many and varied. She would have to teach him all of them. Fortunately she could help him with that on a case by case basis as required.

As well as allies he would need to know about his enemies and those who stood in the middle; who they were, how they thought, what they wanted, their alliances and enemies and friends, what they had done and were willing to do, who had the power and those who were willing to get it. Who was related to who and in what way was almost as important as their alliances as in some cases the alliance was strictly family and in others family could be on both sides of an issue.

In his forthcoming campaign to impoverish some of his enemies knowing where they got their money from was as important as what they did with it. Knowing who owned what businesses, who were partners or merely investors, where their supplies came from and where their suppliers got them was all sorely needed information.

There was a _lot_ of information Harry needed to know and she had less than five months to teach him what normally took years to teach a Family Heir. Harry had not been pleased or enthusiastic when she'd laid out her planned lessons. So far though, he'd been very studious and serious about his studies. As he'd remarked when the enormity of what he was facing finally hit him, 'Unlike Binns' history class I can't sleep through this.'

He, or rather the Gray Man, had also been going out at night, to do what she had no idea, getting only a smile and 'you can't be prosecuted for what you don't know' whenever she asked him. She was tempted to remind him that just knowing he was the Gray Man made her an accomplice regardless.

His return home however, made up for any worries she had about his nocturnal activities. Sometimes late at night, or even early morning, he'd wake her with touches, kisses and caresses. Once she awoke to find him grinning madly down at her and already sheathed within her surprising her greatly that she could have slept through something like that. She'd happily wrapped her legs around him and helped him finish, enjoying it immensely.

About the only thing she used her own bedroom for was storage.

They were starting to get into a routine, regular and comfortable and for the first time in years she felt safe and could relax.

And then it all went to hell.

((((((OOOOO))))))

Harry was off doing whatever he did every morning and she had awakened early. Feeling relaxed and refreshed she'd decided to just get up and get an early start on her day. She was sitting at a breakfast table in a little nook off the kitchen with a bay window overlooking the gardens with the remains of her breakfast before her and drinking a cup of tea and reading the Daily Prophet, and how he got that delivered with no one realizing he was alive or where he was she had no idea, when she heard footsteps coming up behind her. She chuckled. "Harry, they actually have another article on my supposed disappearance." She stood with the paper and turned to face him … and froze. Instead of emerald green eyes, these were chocolate brown.

" **What … what are you doing?"**

Bushy brown hair in place of messy black.

" **No! Don't! Please no!"**

A face out of her own personal nightmares, half forgotten upon waking, come to horrifying life.

" **NO! PLEASE** _ **AAAIIIIEEEEEEEEE**_ **!"**

The paper fell to the floor as she clapped her hands to her ears to block out the scream of a young woman in agony. It did no good however as the sound ripped through her mind, already past her ears almost six years in the past.

" **PLEASE NO!** _ **ARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHIIIIIIEEEEEEE**_ **!"**

She staggered back, tripped over her chair as another scream slashed across her consciousness, and fell, crashing into the heavy table and falling to the floor, never noticing the pain in her hip where she'd hit. "NOnononononononononononono!" She chanted unknowing as she curled into a fetal ball, eyes squeezed shut, hands to her ears as she tried futilely to escape the memories, block out the sounds, avoid the sights.

" **(sob) please stop!** _ **AAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEE!**_ **(sob)."**

She had no defenses against the onslaught, hadn't had them in years. She hadn't needed them. She no longer needed to stand by and watch, stoically, passively, uncaring, as another woman's child was tortured and maimed for no other reason than her blood status or that she had chosen to oppose a homicidal maniac, just to protect her own son and herself.

" **Please, please, (sob) plea** _ **AAAARRRRRGGGGGHHH!**_ **"**

She didn't hear the keening wail rising in the nook, didn't know it was coming from her own throat.

" _ **AAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEE!**_ **(sob) (sob) Please, please, stop, don't, no more, no more."**

She didn't hear "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" issuing from her own mouth as she watched again as her sister, _her own sister!_ carved letters into the flesh of another human being, a _child_ , laughing maniacally as she did so. She stood calmly, quietly, saying nothing, doing nothing, trying not to spew the contents of her stomach all over Draco standing in front of her as they watched the horrific scene before them. Hardened her heart and soul to the screams and cries of the girl lying pinned to the floor by Bellatrix, knowing the price they would pay if they showed her any sympathy as blood flowed across the floor.

" _ **AAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEE!**_ **"**

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

If she had heard them, had known she was speaking them, she'd have known the words weren't enough, could never be enough, _but she had to protect her son!_ But she didn't hear, didn't know as her mind locked her into a scene of a past she desperately wanted to forget, but couldn't.

She didn't hear the comforting words as the girl's voice became ragged as her throat was torn raw with each successive scream.

She didn't feel the comforting hands gently lifting her head to a soft lap as pleading words gave way to gut wrenching sobs of agony.

She didn't taste the bitter sweetness of the potion as strong fingers held her jaws open, or held her lips closed and massaged her throat until she swallowed.

And then she didn't hear or feel anything at all.

((((((OOOOO))))))

She slowly became aware. The soft firmness under her told her she was on a bed, her head on a pillow. How had she gotten here? Light through her eyelids told her it was daytime. How long had she been here? A light creak of wood on wood told her someone was nearby. Who? She opened her eyes. The canopy of a bed overhead told her she was right about her location.

"'Cissa?"

At the soft word she turned her head and looked into green, green eyes. Harry? Harry. "Harry."

She saw him smile, one of relief, as he leaned forward. "Drink this, 'Cissa." He held out a vial and held it to her lips in one hand as he helped her lift her head with the other as she drank; a calming draught by the taste. Why a calming draught?

"What's going on Harry?" she asked in confusion. "Why am I here?"

He looked down at her with concern. "'Cissa, what do you remember? What happened?"

What did she remember? She'd been in the dining alcove, reading the Prophet. There'd been another story about her, one she found funny and then…

She gasped and tried to sit up as Harry's hands held her down. "She's alive! Harry, she's alive!" She felt tears welling up in her eyes, her heart starting to race, hysteria trying to set in as she tried to tell Harry the news. "Harry, she's alive. Oh, Merlin, what am I going to do? I let Bella do it, I didn't try to stop her oh Merlin I have to make her understand, I had to, I had to!"

Harry was leaning over her, stroking her cheek, trying to keep her calm. The potion was helping a small part of her mind was telling her, else she'd have been a screaming, hysterical mess, but even so her emotions were threatening to overwhelm even that.

"SSsshhh! SSsshh! 'Cissa it's all right! SSssh!" She stared into his eyes, hearing his words and it helped. She knew he was wrong, it could never be alright, but the words did help.

"Harry, I saw her! It was Miss Granger, she's alive!" She tried to tell him in a calmer voice but he was shaking his head.

"It wasn't her, 'Cissa, believe me, I know: it wasn't Hermione."

She looked at him, confused. How could he know that? It was her! It was! She felt the tears running down her face as she nodded, trying to tell him it was. And then he said something that almost destroyed her.

"It was her mother."

She stared at him in horror. NO! It couldn't be! No, not her, please don't let it be her! "No, Harry! No, no, no, please no, what I did, what I did to her daughter, what I let happen, no, please…" She started sobbing as he took her face between his hands.

"'Cissa, it's alright, she understands. She knows why you did it. It's alright." His voice was warm and comforting and had absolutely no effect on her.

She shook her head. "No, she can't, how could she?" She cried in anguish unable to believe any mother could forgive her for what she had allowed to happen.

"Because you did it to protect your son."

Her head snapped around, eyes wide in terror to the source of the new voice as she felt the bed move behind her as someone sat down on it. Her lungs seized up and refused to let her breathe, her heart racing as she gazed into what she now realized was an older version of the face of her nightmares, a face that inexplicably smiled in a caring and concerned way.

The young woman's voice began to rise in volume as the screams started again.

"I forgive you, Narcissa."

The words may as well have been a foreign language for all the comprehension she had of them. She couldn't have heard right, that couldn't have been what she heard. How could she be forgiven? "No! You can't forgive me, how can you forgive me? I stood by and let my sister torture your daughter! How can you forgive that?" She cried as understanding failed her.

She flinched as the woman reached out and placed her palm against her cheek. "Because you only did what any mother would do, you were protecting your child. I would have done anything to protect Hermione, how could I blame you for doing the same for your son? How can I not forgive you?"

The screams died away as the floodgates were sundered and with a forlorn wail she broke down and cried, bawling like a baby as she sobbed, limp and helpless as caring arms pulled her into their embrace. Gentle hands stroked her head in a comforting gesture as she cried unrestrainedly against the bosom of the other woman. She barely felt the rocking as she sobbed out her pain and anguish, barely heard the soft humming as her tears washed away the greater part of the guilt she felt.

She cried for a very long time.

((((((OOOOO))))))

They sat in the same small breakfast alcove off the kitchen, a cozy little area with a bay window that jutted out, letting the table sit in the space and allowing a generous amount of bright sunshine to illuminate the area.

She had awakened in Harry's arms as they lay on their sides, he spooning into her back. They were both still dressed and she had wondered how long it had been. Harry woke at her first movement and had inquired as to her condition. Honestly, she had felt drained, tired and listless. He had led her to the bathroom, undressed both of them and then bathed her under a hot shower. She could see his concern as he had soaped and scrubbed her clean. The feel of his hands massaging her shoulders had helped relax her and she had turned and put her arms around his neck as he shampooed her hair, the comforting feel of his fingers kneading her scalp almost putting her back to sleep. When he'd finished he'd dried her and put her in a big, fluffy robe and warm, fuzzy slippers before leading her down to breakfast.

He didn't say anything but she knew who would be waiting at their destination and dreaded the forthcoming meeting. What could she possibly say to the mother of a girl she had watched being tortured and done nothing to prevent?

They turned into the alcove and she clutched the front of her robe as the other woman came into sight. She was seated on the far side of the table with the windows at her back, showing a dark, gloomy, rainy day outside. _A fitting day for such a meeting to take place on_ , she thought to herself. A tea service sat on the table before her, steam rising from the pot, with two cups sitting beside it, a plate of toast close by. Another plate held jam, marmalade and butter.

The woman wore a robe as well, big, fluffy and white. She raised her eyes to meet her own and Narcissa was struck again by the resemblance between mother and daughter. She was as beautiful a woman as her daughter and the two of them could be mistaken as sisters born twenty years apart.

The screams of a young woman in agony began to build in the back of her mind.

Her lips curled up into a smile. "Mrs. Malfoy, good morning. I hope you're feeling better this today. Won't you join me?" she asked, indicating a chair. As Harry pulled it out for her and she sat down she kept her eyes on the brunette's eyes, unable to look away. "We've never been formally introduced. I'm Emma Granger and I'm truly sorry for what happened yesterday. I hadn't expected to meet you that early in the morning nor was I ready for the shock at what happened. May I assume it was my appearance that caused what happened?"

Numbly she nodded, wondering how she could have guessed. "You look so much like her." She said. "I hear her in my mind, screaming."

Emma gave a worried glance at Harry before turning her gaze back to Narcissa. "You hear her now?" Narcissa nodded. "Why is she screaming?" she asked gently.

"My sister, she's…she has a knife…"

The screams began getting louder.

"…she's cutting…" she raised a hand to her head, wincing as the screams began to get deafening. She saw the Granger woman's eyes widen before glancing towards Harry again and making a gesture. Almost immediately she felt his hands on either side of her face, gently turning her head to look at him.

"'Cissa, it's alright. That's in the past. Hermione is beyond that now. It's alright."

She saw his green eyes, heard the gentle words. "Harry?"

"Yes, 'Cissa, it's me." He pulled her into a hug.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then let it out with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Harry, I'm so sorry." She almost cried.

He gently rubbed comforting circles on her back. "I know, 'Cissa, I know and I forgive you and so does Emma."

The screams quieted until they were only a muted sound in the back of her mind.

She took another deep breath and pushed back out of Harry's embrace, the torpor and lassitude that had held her gone as she faced the other woman. "I'm sorry Mrs. Granger, both for that and for what I let happen to your daughter."

"Please, call me Emma." Emma stated as she sat back in her chair once more. "As I told you last night, I've forgiven you for what happened and I meant it. Harry has told me what happened that day and after a description of your sister's madness I fully understand what the consequences might have been to both you and your son if you had crossed her. I could not in all good conscious expect you to take that chance. If you had I think things would have turned out very differently if you hadn't been in the forest the day of the final battle. I don't believe anyone else would have helped Harry escape that mad man as you did. I don't even want to contemplate the consequences if that had happened." She suddenly gave her a quizzical look. "Do you still hear them?"

She nodded, raising her hand to the back of her head. "Here, but they're quieter now. I don't understand what it is though. I hear them when I look at you and that's never happened before."

"The Americans call it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD." Emma told her. "It happens when someone is subjected to long periods of highly stressful situations, such as war. Its symptoms can appear days, months or even years after the events that cause them. They can include anxiety or panic attacks, shakes or quivering, nightmares, jumpiness at sudden sounds or noises and in extreme cases flashbacks where you relive scenes that happened. As I said, you might be fine for years before something triggers the symptoms. Triggers can be sounds or smells or even sights." She stared at Narcissa. "That's what happened to you, wasn't it? The unexpected sight of me looking so much like my daughter?"

"But I was never in danger or stressed!" she protested.

Harry spoke up for the first time. "Being stuck in a house with a madman who would rather torture or kill you as look at you for months on end would seem to me to be a very stressful environment." He reached over and took her hand. "Just being in the same house with him, knowing he was there, had to have been stressful all by itself. I know for a fact he killed on a whim sometimes."

"It doesn't have to be a lot of stress all at once." The woman explained. "The effect is cumulative. A little stress all the time over a long period with no time to de-stress, can do it just as well."

"So I've gone crazy?" she asked, worried what the answer might be.

"You mean other than for hooking up with Harry?" Emma replied with a chuckle. "No, you have not gone crazy. I'm the truly crazy one around here, you merely have a severe psychological problem that can be worked through and helped with good psychological help."

At her confused look Harry spoke up. "Mind healers." He explained. "Psychiatrists in the mundane world."

At his words she understood. But did she want someone looking into her mind, seeing what she'd seen, what she'd done, all of her secrets? "I don't know if I want that." She told the two of them. "I don't think I'm ready to have a stranger poking around inside my head. I can live with screams."

Emma smiled as she slid the tea service over to her. "Welcome to the House of Healing Souls, Narcissa." She grinned. "You've just joined the inmates."

She was silent as she prepared her tea, spreading some marmalade on a piece of toast. Harry went into the kitchen and returned with a butterbeer before she spoke again. "Harry has told me you were in a very bad way when he brought you here, that he thought you were better. Didn't you see a Mind Healer?"

The other woman laughed derisively. "Magical head-shrinkers wouldn't have a thing to do with me; I'm a muggle, non-magical, beneath them. Going to a non-magical psychiatrist would have been a one way ticket to a room with rubber walls. Can you imagine what they'd think if I even mentioned witches or wizards, people who can disappear or cast spells, kill with a word, torture with a thought? I'd never see the outside of an institution again." she suddenly looked pensive. "For a while there, though, it might have been the best place for me."

"I never would have put you there, Em." Harry said from where he sat. "I'll take care of you for as long as it takes."

Emma smiled at the young man before turning her gaze to Narcissa. "See why my daughter loved him?" she asked. "He always puts other people before himself. Selfless, caring, giving, always thinking of others first." Her smile turned into a smirk. "It doesn't hurt that he's also intelligent, beguiling, dangerous and looks like a hunk; great in the sack, too."

Narcissa met her smirk with one of her own. _Oh, yes, he's all those things_ , she thought as she looked at his reddening cheeks. Especially the part about being…

"You slept with your girlfriend's _mother_?" she exclaimed rather loudly in a surprised voice, looking at him in shock and surprise. She never would have expected that to have happened. Not Harry.

"It's not like it sounds, 'Cissa." He started to explain.

"How can it not sound like you had sex with her, Harry?" she demanded. She didn't know why she was acting so indignant; it had to have been well before he'd brought her here, and the one, or two if her husband was around, who deserved to be upset weren't here. Maybe.

 _But was she any different?_ she suddenly thought. If they'd gotten together after she died, were the circumstances any different than her own? She hadn't seen, nor had either of the other two mentioned, a _Mr_. Granger, so if there were no attachments to prevent it what right did she have to complain about the arrangement? Harry hadn't promised any exclusive rights to him after all.

She sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Harry." She told him. "That was totally uncalled for. What you do together is none of my business."

It was Emma who answered however. "He doesn't do anything with me." She said while smirking at Harry. "No matter how much I beg, plead and grovel for him to."

"Huh?" "Emma!"

Her confusion was peaking as she looked back and forth between the two. He wasn't shagging her like she'd intimated he had been? But she wanted him to? And he sounded embarrassed by it? What was going on?

As if reading her mind Emma turned back to her. "He hasn't touched me sexually in several years." She explained. "And when he did it wasn't anything you could even remotely call making love."

"Emma, is this really necessary?" There was a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"Harry, if she's going to help you she deserves to know about the two head cases she's going to be living with. We are better but you know damn good and well that we're also still broken and she doesn't deserve to be taken by surprise if one of us falls apart in front of her unexpectedly." She stared at him expectantly.

He didn't look at her as he stared at his butterbeer bottle, then suddenly popped the top off, took a swig and nodded to her.

She watched her give him a small, tender smile and a nod before she turned back to her. "Narcissa, there's a very good reason why Harry calls this place what he does. At one time neither one of us was what you could in any way call sane and it was nothing but the most fortunate of circumstances that Harry saved us, though it took quite a while of my kicking and screaming as he dragged me back from a place I really didn't want to leave before I could be classified in any way as rational." She took a sip of her tea and looked at her over the cup before she went on. "I will always be grateful for what he has done for me, but even though I am and even with him being what he is there is one very important thing you need to know about why my sanity is not very strongly attached to rationality…" she said calmly.

"…I hate your world."

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry about the cliffy but this chapter had hit 10K with a few thousand more to go and that's** _ **waaaay**_ **to long so I decided to cut it here as Emma begins her story. Most of it is already written so hopefully you won't have to wait** _ **too**_ **long to find out what happened. For those of you who are going to challenge my explanation of PTSD (and there will be some) just remember Emma Granger is a dentist, not a psychiatrist. She only has a laymen's understanding of it. I hope you've enjoyed it so far and stick around for the next exciting chapter at the same bat time (HAH!), same bat channel. Till then, ta! ER**


	7. Chapter 7: Memories 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron or anything else in JKR's wonderful world. Except for the little pebble just to left of the front doors of Hogwarts. I put that there. I might own that. Maybe. But probably not.

* * *

God, I hate writer's block. Stupid muse. Finally, here is part 2 of Memories. May you forgive me for what I'm about to visit upon your senses.

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Memories 2**

"…I hate your world." she said quietly.

Narcissa jerked at the unexpectedness of the confession. She didn't find it to surprising a statement given what she knew of what had happened in her life, the torture and murder of her daughter. She just hadn't expected such a forthright statement.

"At one time if I'd had the power I'd have done as the Romans did to Carthage: destroy it utterly, leaving no stone standing one on another and salt the earth where it had been so it could never come back."

The woman's statement was filled with all the vitriol it deserved but it was said in a calm, conversational manner. The combination sent a chill up Narcissa's spine.

Emma looked over at Harry. "Harry, however, has convinced me that just tearing it down and rebuilding it to be better than it was is a much better way to go." She smiled as she looked at the young man.

"And the people?" She asked in a small voice, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Oh, I'd have cheerfully killed them all with my bare hands." Emma replied. "Every man, woman and child and laughed at them as they begged for their lives." She gave the witch a piercing look, her voice dropping into a menacing tone. "You have _no_ idea how very much I wanted to do just that."

The last was said with a smile that scared her and Narcissa thought back to her first night in the house when Harry had said 'they were better but he didn't know how much better'. She wondered if she was safe with the woman despite what had happened recently.

Emma continued on. "Don't get me wrong. When we found out Hermione was a witch I was delighted and fascinated with the idea. Magic was real? Fairies **,** elves, dragons and unicorns actually existed? It was like all of my dreams as a little girl had come true."

She took a sip of her tea. "But the dream started its long, slow slide into a nightmare with our very first trip to Diagon Alley. I noticed the looks we received from a lot of the people, like they were surprised to see us, as if we didn't belong there. I ignored them because I was looking back at them for the way they dressed. They were just so different to what I was used to. But some of the storekeepers acted like the stereotypes of high-end, ritzy, expensive stores you see in Hollywood or Monte Carlo, places where the rich play. The saying goes 'if you have to ask the price, you can't afford it', and it shows that you don't really belong and they treat you accordingly. That's how I felt. They looked down on us because we were non-magical and beneath them except to give them our money and get out of their store." She thought a moment before going on. "Not all of them of course, but enough. Some of them were really rude. I heard someone call us Muggles as if it were a curse, some to our face. It never got any better." Another sip of tea, then a chuckle. "The only ones I really liked were the goblins. They treated all humans exactly the same… rudely, and as if you weren't worth their time. You knew exactly where you stood with them, whether the richest or the poorest, influential or not. I think they did it on purpose."

Another sip of tea reminded Narcissa of her own and she sipped as well. Harry still had his butterbeer.

Emma cocked her head to the side a little. "That was where I saw you for the first time." She said. "It was our first trip to Diagon. We went into Mme. Malkin's just as you were leaving with your son. You gave us an up-and-down look and then turned your nose up like we weren't fit to even stand in your presence."

She didn't remember the instance but Narcissa could imagine it happening just like that. "Harry just recently reminded me that I used to be a snobby, selfish, stuck up bint." She said seriously.

The left side of Emma's mouth curled up ever so slightly and to what can only be called a sneer. "My, how the mighty have fallen." She said, almost under her breath.

"Emma."

At the sound of Harry's admonishing tone she jerked upright in the chair she'd been relaxing back into, eyes widening as she broke from her reverie. "I'm sorry. That was totally uncalled for."

Narcissa could hear the sincerity in her voice. For a moment she had actually enjoyed Narcissa's circumstances but now sounded totally contrite about what she'd said. She shrugged. "There's nothing to be sorry for, it's the truth after all. You can't get any lower than being a 5 knut whore in Knockturn alley. _Everybody_ looks down on you then. But I wouldn't think that would be enough to cause you to hate the whole magical world."

This time the smile was a sad one. "You're right, it wasn't but it was the beginning of the disenchantment." The smile brightened slightly at the pun. "But the disrespect, the condescension was hard to take after a while. My husband and I had spent years studying to learn our professions, to help people to the best of our abilities and we were looked up to by people we knew. That may sound like I'm a vain person, but to be looked down on simply because someone can do something I can't, because I don't have the right ancestors, just doesn't seem right. But to see my daughter subjected to the same treatment, even though she can do those things, only because my husband and I were her parents definitely wasn't right."

"But what I noticed over the next few years deepened my dislike of your world. My daughter was slowly growing away from us. There was a subtle indoctrination to all of the first-generation children that the Muggle world" and she raised her hands and hooked her index and middle fingers into air quotes "wasn't for them, that they should look only to the magical world for their future. Never mind the fact due to their social standing many of the people didn't want them there or that they would be relegated to the lowest, most menial of jobs."

"But by the time any of them graduated, they were trapped. It was very hard to live in the magical world but they didn't have the education to survive in the mundane one. So they either had to struggle almost at the poverty level magically or spend years trying to catch up on their education non-magically."

She paused for a moment, and then shook her head. "What they had to go through at school was bad enough: trolls and giant snakes, soul sucking demons guarding hundreds of children who had no defense against them, and teachers who tortured students or were so blatantly biased against them they'd have been sacked and arrested in my world. They forced children into a tournament that had killed older, more experienced people and did nothing but institute a smear campaign against that very same child when he tried to warn them that the most evil wizard in a hundred years had returned."

She set her empty cup on the table and folded her hands in her lap. "That's nowhere near all the things that Harry has told me happened in the school that was supposed to be the safest place in all of Britain, but I still didn't hate your world at the time. I was deeply disappointed, resentful, disgusted and horrified at what it was like, but I didn't hate it yet."

Narcissa saw her lean back and inhale deeply as she prepared to continue. " _That_ started the day my seventeen year old daughter appeared, ready to erase our memories of her and your world, to have us leave our home and move halfway around the world in order to hopefully be safe and escape the clutches of the murdering madman whom most people in your world expected an even younger sixteen year old boy to destroy."

Narcissa almost shivered. Emma's voice was cold now, condemning of the people she felt were responsible for forcing her child into doing what she felt was necessary to protect her parents and keep them safe. She couldn't find it in her heart to blame her.

"We convinced her not to erase our memories and that we'd move to New Zealand instead of Australia. Before she left she told us she and Harry were going on a hunt to find something to destroy the man she referred to as Riddle, but she didn't say what that was. She left and that was the last time I saw her alive."

Narcissa noticed the faraway look the woman had as she said this. Then she noticed the single tear sliding down her cheek.

"We were twelve hours to late."

The words were quiet, sounding far off and Narcissa could see the look of bittersweet memories in the other woman's eyes.

"We had sold our dental practice and arranged for all of our belongings to go into storage until we could get a place in New Zealand and send for them. All we had left in the house was our bed upstairs and a couple of old chairs and the telephone downstairs. The furniture was old enough we weren't going to keep it so we'd just left it. It was our last night there; we were catching a flight the next morning and we'd just finished some take out for dinner. I'd been up in the bedroom and was coming down the stairs when there were two pops and two men appeared at the foot of the stairway with their backs to me. I could tell one of them had some kind of mask on but the other one didn't and his long white hair came down past his shoulders."

Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open in shock and horror as she realized who Emma was talking about. _No! Oh sweet Merlin, please not more pain and anguish on her from my family!_

Emma noticed her reaction and her left eyebrow quirked upwards. "Yes, I know he was your husband; Harry told me later. He even snuck me into the trial with a borrowed wand because _muggles_ aren't allowed into the magical court, even if they've been victimized by the very people on trial. I don't know why I even bothered. Not one charge against him was against any non-magical person even though Harry has told me they knew he'd been involved in several more besides Dan's death. Just a muggle." She spoke the last in a scornful, derogatory way, obviously upset by the feelings in the wizarding world towards non-magicals. "I was pleased however to hear him get life in prison with those soul sucking demons, though. Death would have been too quick for him and I hope he lives a very long time."

She sat silent for a few moments, contemplative, before she looked at the witch again. "But I'm getting ahead of my story. Dan didn't hesitate or even look at me as he slammed his fist into the throat of the one with the mask. He only yelled for me to run, to get out of the house. I was barefoot so I didn't make any noise as I ran back upstairs but I heard someone falling, more pops and someone yelling something before Dan started screaming. I ran into the bedroom and threw open the window… and then I did the most childish thing imaginable… I hid under the bed." She looked at Narcissa and chuckled. "Can you believe that? Here were people coming to kill us and I hid under the bed like a child hiding from their parents. How foolish is that?"

Narcissa felt herself nodding in agreement. What good would hiding under a bed do against someone who could use a simple spell to find you?

"I heard someone stomping around the upstairs and then they came into our room. I held my breath, praying he didn't hear me. But he simply moved over to the window then turned and walked back out into the hallway where he yelled down that I'd gotten outside and away. I heard someone downstairs cursing and then they yelled back up that I couldn't find the house again so come back down."

She stared at the other woman with a look of disbelief. "He didn't even _look_?"

Emma shook her head and smiled. "Both Harry and Hermione had told us over the years the one most notable thing lacking in your world was common sense. I always presumed that was a supreme example." Her expression suddenly changed, became haunted, her eyes getting a look of horror as she took on a faraway look. "Hiding under that bed was the biggest mistake of my life."

She returned her gaze to Narcissa. "For the next two hours I listened to my husband's screams as they tortured him."

Two hours?! Twice that many minutes had driven her into a hysterical nervous breakdown. What had two hours done to this woman?

"He defied them." The words had a wistful sound and her eyes were focused on something far away as she spoke. "He taunted them, cursed them, insulted them…" tears began to run down her cheeks and Narcissa could hear the pride in the voice of the woman across from her. "He fought them with the only thing he had left: words. They laughed at him, I could hear that plainly, but I heard the anger in it as well, anger that they couldn't get him to beg, to plead for his life, to _break_ him. He thought I was safe, gone from their clutches and he laughed back at them for their inability to make him beg. He screamed, oh how he screamed, but they never broke him, never made him beg them to stop. He _fought_ them and won that one small victory."

She shook her head and Emma scowled at her, anger in her eyes. That look chilled her. "Are you trying to take that away from him?" she grated out.

"No, I understand what you're saying but it wasn't a small victory. It was much bigger than that." She exclaimed. "The man he hit? It was Lord Selwyn's son, his only child and his heir. I remember the night because Lucius had gone on a raid. He didn't tell me where it was or who he was looking for but something went wrong." She had the brunette's total attention with her explanation. Even Harry was sitting forward, listening. "He came back that night and I could hear him screaming as Voldemort used the torture curse on him."

Emma's face took on a look of unholy glee at hearing that revelation. She imagined the thought of the man who'd made her husband scream screaming in agony himself must have been incredibly satisfying. "He wouldn't tell me what happened but the next morning there was an article in the Prophet that announced the Heir to the House of Selwyn had tripped and fallen down a staircase the night before and had hit his throat on the hand rail and crushed it. He was dead before anyone found him. I didn't think anything about it until what you just said but I think he might have been the man your husband hit."

Emma's face had a beautiful smile on it as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "You hurt them, Dan, you really hurt them and you sent one of those bastards to hell before you died." She murmured quietly under her breath.

"He did more than hurt them." She said. The other woman's head came upright and the expectant look on her face urged her on. "Lord Selwyn died at the Battle of Hogwarts. When the Lady Selwyn dies the line of Selwyn will be extinct. There is no one left to claim the name."

Emma glanced at Harry. "It's a big thing when a noble house goes extinct, Em: one less Lord, one less seat and vote in the Wizengamot for the Dark side. During the trials I heard talk from both sides about how the loss of Houses was going to hurt the government, make it easier for the _lowborn_ to try to get more power for themselves." His emphasis on the word made them aware of whom he meant: anyone not of a noble house, especially anyone not pureblood. "That one punch will help us achieve our goal of dragging this backward world into the future. Be proud of him for that." He reached over and took her hand in comfort.

She looked at the smile on the face of the muggle woman and saw the pride that was there for her man, a man who had literally struck a blow for justice in her world.

But then the smile faded as she continued her story. "Dan's screams became less and less as time went on, I guess from shock and his throat being worn raw. They finally stopped altogether and I heard one last bout of laughter before there was a series of pops which I took was his killers leaving, but I stayed under the bed for another hour just in case it was a trick to see if I was still in the house or not. When I did go downstairs I collapsed at the foot of the stairs when I saw what they'd done to him."

She got that faraway look again and in her eyes Narcissa saw remembrance, and horror. She was afraid to hear what came next.

"They had dismembered him." Were the quiet words that came from her mouth and Narcissa's hands came up to her mouth as she fought to keep the bile down from her throat.

Emma's eyes focused on hers as if to let her see what she had seen as she went on to describe it. "Every joint of his limbs as he lay naked and helpless on the floor. They'd cut off his fingers and toes one joint at a time and if that weren't enough they'd laid them out on the floor around him in their correct order in some macabre display. I guess they cut them because it was too hard to twist them off as they did the rest: wrists, elbows, shoulders, ankles, knees and hips, laid out around him in a spread eagle way. Too small to grip easily I would think."

Her voice had gone back to a calm, detached, conversational level, as if describing how the furniture was arranged. _How can she talk like that?_ Narcissa questioned. _Yes, she's had years to deal with it but to talk about it so normally even after all this time is_ not _normal!_

"But the final thing they did, the final indignity they inflicted on him, was to tear off his manhood and shove it down his throat and carve the words _**SIRE ANOTHER NOW**_ on his chest."

Narcissa lost her battle as the tea and toast she'd had erupted from her mouth. She managed to turn her head and spew it on the floor as she slid from her chair and fell to her hands and knees as she heaved again and again. Harry was beside her in seconds, holding her hair back and rubbing her back until she knelt there, panting for breath. When she finally pushed herself back up into a kneeling position he handed her a glass of water to rinse her mouth and held a bucket for her to spit into while vanishing the mess with his other hand.

She felt nothing but shame and guilt, not for what she'd just done, but for what her family had done to the other woman's family. _Oh, sweet Merlin! What have we done? We terrified and destroyed her family; marked, degraded and humiliated them and for what? Why? Because we could? Because they couldn't fight back or defend themselves? Is that what it means to be pureblood now?_ _If it is then maybe I should help her gain the power to do as she wanted and let her destroy us because we certainly don't deserve to live._

With a hand from Harry she stood up and regained her seat noting that the other woman had a completely placid look on her face, as if she'd merely left the room and had just returned.

Emma continued, as if there'd been no interruption in her speech. "Is there any wonder why, with such _fine, upstanding citizens_ , I think your world should be destroyed?" she asked, the sarcastic emphasis on the phrase only enhancing her disdain.

Narcissa looked at her for a few seconds then stood up, fumbling her wand out of her pocket and raising it. "Lady Emma Granger, I, Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, do hereby pledge myself to your service…"

" _NO!_ "

Narcissa blinked in surprise as Emma interrupted her vow, her mercurial mood swings having her coming to her feet in anger, hands on the table as she leaned over it. Narcissa stepped back; glad the large table was between the two of them.

"No, you're not getting out of it that easily." She stated forcefully. "If you want to help, if you want to change, yourself or your world, you're not going to do it because some silly magical vow is forcing you to or you'll die or lose your magic. You're going to do it because you want to, because you need to, because you believe it _needs_ to be done. Do you understand me?"

Eyes wide, mouth hanging open and to stunned at the outburst to talk, Narcissa could only nod at the woman.

"Good. Now put that thing away and sit down." Another swing and Emma was back to a calmness belied by the anger only seconds before.

Narcissa did as she was told.

"The first officer into the house did the same thing you just did." Emma said as she took her own seat. "I don't remember using the phone to call the police but I was sitting on the floor by it in a daze looking at Dan and leaning against the wall when they showed up. I guess those ward things Harry told me about must have dissipated for them to be able to find the house. Two of them came in, a man and a woman. He took one look, slapped his hand over his mouth and ran back outside. I could hear him heaving in the front yard all the way inside. She turned a really ugly shade of green but she managed to keep it down and radio for backup. I just sat by the wall and looked at Dan."

"The next hour or so was hectic, people in and out of the house, questions and more questions, medics checking me. They finally decided to send me to the hospital for observation, which was a good idea because I was out of it, but before they got the chance two more investigators questioned me. It wasn't until they were finished that I realized who and what they were."

Narcissa looked questioningly at her before it struck her: if Emma thought they were different there could only be one group who would be there: "Aurors." She said.

Emma nodded. "They must have known who my daughter was because they'd barely moved away from me before one of them said, 'Death Eaters' and the other replied 'And Malfoy was leading them. We can nail him for this with a witness.'"

She cocked her head a little. "Do you know what the first one said?" she asked. Not waiting for an answer she went on. "He said, 'Why bother? It was just a muggle and one for a witness; you know he'll never see the inside of the office much less a cell for one of them. Let's just go back to the shop, right up the report and go home."

Her face clouded in what Narcissa could tell was subdued fury. "' _It_ was just a muggle; one of them.' Those bastards had tortured and killed my husband but with one word, _one_ , he had relegated a wonderful man, husband and father to a status less than an animal, an _it_ and then put the rest of us right down there as well. This was one of the good guys, one of the so called Light, but he couldn't even have the common courtesy to refer to the man I loved as 'he'! Do you wonder why or how I could happily kill every magical person I could find with my bare hands?"

"Harry is magical."

Her short statement was like a slap in the face. Emma's eyes widened in shock and she sat back in her chair and stared at her as if she'd suddenly grown another head, before closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. When she opened them a few seconds later she was calmer. "Thank you." She calmly said. "I sometimes tend to forget that when I think about your world but you are right, he is and there are others like him and of course children merely know what their parents teach them. But it's hard to differentiate between those and the ones like your husband when all you want to do is hurt and kill those whom you see as responsible for your loss."

Narcissa bowed her head in acknowledgement.

"But what about you?" Came the question suddenly from the other woman. "How do you feel about someone like me, a non-magical person?"

"Unfortunately until quite recently I am sad to say that I was very firmly in the group you wish to destroy, or worse. While I never killed anyone, my feelings towards non-magical people such as yourself were exactly in line with what you've been saying. I barely tolerated muggleborn and was not afraid to tell them so. Half bloods would depend on their parentage."

The left corner of Emma's mouth quirked upward. "What happened when you encountered them in your recent profession?"

Narcissa's mouth quirked upward as well, acutely aware of the irony of the question. "I quickly came to realize their coin spent just as readily as a pureblood's and that most of them bathed more often as well. They usually paid better, too." Her smile faded. "But what about you? What happened? You obviously didn't go to New Zealand."

Emma's smiled faded as well. "There wasn't a reason to go then, not without Dan, so I took the house off the market, had everything taken out of storage and basically just waited." She got a pensive look. "I think my descent into madness started about that time. I wasn't really living I was just existing. I didn't do anything or go anywhere, I didn't visit anyone or have anyone over, I just thought about my family. Dan was gone and I grieved for him, dreamed of him and cried myself to sleep every night. I had no idea where Hermione was or what she was doing and I prayed she was being safe, that she would come home to me." There was a small pause. "But she didn't."

She looked at Narcissa and she could see the pain in her eyes, the loss, sadness, grief and anger of a mother who had lost her child to another's hand.

Emma continued. "When Harry brought her home I was devastated. At first it was so hard to believe, she looked as if she were asleep, how could she be gone? I just withdrew into myself for the next three days with grief. I was so unresponsive I can't even remember them. I just wrapped myself in blankets and cried for hours at a time until I was exhausted then sleep. When I woke up I'd cry again. Harry was spooning chicken soup into my mouth when I became coherent again. Then I went on a raging tear when I found out about that word carved into her arm, damn near wrecking the entire house. But do you know what I was the angriest about?"

Narcissa shook her head.

"It was the fact that she had been gone for _three weeks_ before Harry brought her home and _nobody_ had notified me of what had happened to her!" she exclaimed angrily. "I found out later _none_ of the non-magical parents of children at that school who had died were notified. The _magical_ families had been but obviously the all high and mighty Ministry had felt it was to unimportant to let us know that our children had died fighting a battle that the adults in that world of yours should have made sure they were far away from."

She turned to look at Harry for confirmation, shocked at the very idea that anybody could be so callous as to neglect to tell anybody their child had been killed. He nodded at her look. "It took me two weeks just to find out what had been done with the bodies." He told her. "You'd have thought they'd have been taken to St. Mungo's but they hadn't; they'd been taken to the damn Ministry! Some arse had decided sending them to the hospital when it was so overwhelmed with wounded from the battle wasn't the correct thing to do so they'd transported them all to a sub-basement and just laid them out on the floor under stasis charms. Then the stupid shite just forgot about them! I hadn't wanted to kill Riddle as badly as I wanted to kill him when I found out."

She leaned back in her chair, not surprised at the idiocy and incompetency in the Ministry or even the magical world itself. She knew at one time she'd been the same way, hardly thinking of muggles or muggleborn as human, much less people she'd associate with. But a year in Knockturn had broken her of her highborn ways. When they were half your customers and the better paying half at that, you couldn't afford to let those kinds of beliefs get in the way of your very survival.

Besides, as she'd already explained to Emma, their personal hygiene was almost always better and most of them were friendlier towards her than the purebloods were, treating her more as a person than just a piece of meat, something she'd noticed was more prevalent in the muggle world. Sure, there were many with issues about who she was and who she was married to but their remarks and actions weren't nearly as cutting and hurtful as those from people she had once believed to be her friends or acquaintances. She'd even gotten friendly with many of them, some of whom became regular customers, some to the point she'd turn down a pureblood in favor of them. She told herself the extra money and better smelling bed partners were good reasons for that.

Add to all of that the month she'd spent living in the muggle world, albeit in a more luxurious lifestyle than most of them, and seen how they lived, worked and played, what they knew and what they could do and it was no wonder her opinions about them had changed.

"So what happened next?" she asked. "Between you two?"

"After Hermione's funeral I moved in with Emma at her place." Harry said. "I didn't want to leave her alone…"

"I was an absolute mess." The brunette put in.

"…and to tell the truth I really didn't want to be alone myself." He concluded. "During the trials they were the only thing keeping me from doing the wand in the mouth trick."

"Harry, that had better not mean what it sounds like." Emma growled with a concerned tone.

The young man gave the woman a weak smile. "It's alright Em; I'm past that point."

"You'd better be." She growled before turning to Narcissa. "I kicked him out of the house after the trials were over. He was an absolute mess. I told him to go out and see the world, go to the places he and Hermione had talked about seeing, do the things they'd talked about doing, to start living his life without anybody telling him what he could and couldn't do. I thought it would help him get over the funk he was in."

Harry shook his head. "Didn't help." He said. "I couldn't stop thinking about her. Everywhere I went just reminded me that we'd talked of being there, seeing the sights, learning the history, meeting the people. We'd meant to go together, to be with each other…and we weren't and never would be. I wasn't enjoying myself, I was depressed and despondent but I didn't have anything else to do." He shrugged. "I just kept on doing what I was doing."

His demeanor changed suddenly. "Then, while I was sitting in an airport terminal I saw a photography magazine and picked it up. That got my attention. Here was something I had to do, _needed_ to do. Hermione called it my saving people thing and this time the wizarding world was looking at destruction, not just a tyranny of power. The people would have survived but the culture itself wouldn't have. There are very few examples of a less technologically advanced culture surviving contact with a more advanced one. Whether malignant or benevolent the lesser culture was usually overrun by the greater one and the magical world would have been no different. The culture shock alone would have been the greatest blow of all. To be presented with proof that the muggle world was just as advanced, or even more advanced in some areas, would have left most purebloods shocked and disbelieving." He pointed a finger at her. "Look at what happened to you. There are a great many things the magical world can do that the mundane one can't but the mere idea of the ones it can do, and especially the ones the magical can't, drove you into a nervous breakdown. What would happen to the average pureblood when confronted with the idea, and the proof, the mundane world is not the group of mud hut dwelling savages they think they are and could actually be a threat to them? That almost always leads to some kind of conflict."

She had to agree. The shock of that revelation had been a severe blow to her world view.

Then he threw out the real kicker. "Not to mention the fact the Crown can retake control of the ministry at any time. How many magicals even realize that the Statute of Secrecy even allows for that to happen? They'll go spare!" he settled back in his chair.

"So I came back and started making plans. Only, being around Emma all of the time I was constantly being reminded of Hermione: she looked like her, she acted like her, and she even sounded like her."

"It didn't help that my daughter and I used the same kinds of hair products, body washes and perfumes; all of them with distinctive scents." Emma put in. "I was adding to the growing problem and didn't even realize it."

She sighed and slumped a little in her seat. "It also didn't help that while Harry was away I didn't do anything. I mean hardly anything at all. It was back to being like it was before Harry brought Hermione home. I rarely got dressed from my night gown unless I absolutely had to leave the house, I ate when I was hungry and not on any schedule, I napped or stayed in bed sixteen to eighteen hours a day and when I did get up I just sat looking out the window or staring at a blank telly screen. If I bathed three times a week it was a miracle and I barely touched the house. All I did was sit and think about Dan and Hermione…and Harry."

She blinked, surprised. "Harry?"

"He was my last link to Hermione." She explained. "In a roundabout way my last link to Dan as well. She had loved him so much he was becoming a part of our family and when he came back and saw what I had let myself become he took charge of everything, making me eat and bathe, making me _live_ and in that way I saw him as Dan but still Harry, if that makes any sense."

Harry spoke up again. "It didn't help I was having my own problems with her. If she talked from where I couldn't see her I'd think she was Hermione. I'd catch a quick glance of her out of the corner of my eye and I'd think she was Hermione. I started dreaming about Hermione and she'd morph into Emma in my arms…and I didn't care. If I stood close to her I'd smell Hermione." He sighed and took a drink from his butterbeer. "That's when it started getting bad because I started…getting…excited."

Her eyes widened, at the words, at the sound of shame in his voice, at the look of embarrassment he had as he tilted the bottle back once again. "Harry, did you know something was wrong?"

"I denied it." He said with a sigh. "I didn't even want to look at the morality of it. Pretty soon I was finding any excuse to be as close to her as I could get. I didn't care. I'd close my eyes and she was Hermione and I was going to do whatever it took to keep her."

"It finally came to a head one day in the laundry of all places."

She turned her head to Emma as she took up the story.

"I didn't see him coming in the door as I turned to go out and we sort of got stuck in the jamb for a few seconds. It shouldn't have meant anything, but I felt Harry get…hard." At Narcissa's look she shrugged. "That was all it took. I dropped the clothes I was holding, spun around and throwing my arms around his neck, I kissed him. It only took him a few seconds to respond and when he did I pulled him down on top of me on the floor. He had my skirt up and ripping my knickers off as I was getting his trousers open and by the time I had him free he'd ripped open my blouse and torn my bra from me. He took me right there and it was _good_. It was only the first of a great many times."

Emma glanced over at Harry. "And so I dragged Harry down into my madness."

He snorted derisively as he looked back. "I'll have you know I quite willingly dived off _that_ cliff of my own free will, thank you very much." He stated with great sarcasm then lifted his butterbeer for a long hard pull.

Her gaze went from one to the other in a confused look. "That's it? You had sex? I don't understand, Harry. You told me the two of you almost killed each other."

"For three months." He replied without looking at her.

Her mouth dropped open in shock as she turned back to the woman, who nodded. "It was about all we did: have sex until we were exhausted, sleep, wake up and have more sex. The memories are blurry but I can remember, well, shagging, in just about every room in the house. We ate what was in the house and then we didn't eat when it was gone. We never left the house."

"Neither one of us cared about anything but the sex." Harry explained. "It's what connected us. She looked like Hermione and I wanted her to be Hermione so _badly_ , she was, and I didn't want to give that up. I'm not certain but I think my magic somehow knew what I wanted and made it happen. It locked onto Emma because of her looks and her desire for me and fed that desire back into mine for who I wanted her to be which reinforced hers then back to me and on and on in a self reinforcing feedback loop. We couldn't break out of it and the worse thing about it was we just didn't care. We didn't even want to try." There was an overwhelming sense of hopelessness in his voice.

"He was all I had left of my family." Her eyes went back to the Granger woman. "He was my connection to her, and to some extent Dan, that I couldn't let him go. I needed him, needed him so badly the closer I got to him the better. Holding him was good, having him in me, in any way, was best. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was important. When he wasn't nearby I panicked, went searching for him until I found him and initiated another round of sex."

"There was no love in it, no passion, not even any feeling." She looked back to Harry. "It was just the mindless rutting of two animals that made us not have to think about the pain anymore. It became something we did to help us forget and we did it so much we forgot why we did it and in the process we forgot about everything else as well."

He finally looked her in the eyes and in that look she saw the horror of their situation, the shame and humiliation of losing himself so completely and in such a way. "You said you almost killed each other." She said quietly, looking to at him for an answer.

He shrugged and took another pull on the bottle. "We weren't eating." He simply stated. "But we were getting a _lot_ of exercise." The disgust and self recriminations were plain to hear in his voice as Mrs. Granger took over.

"When Harry finally snapped out of it, he had lost over fifty pounds." She said. Narcissa's eyes widened at the implications. "I had lost over forty-five, not to mention both of us were very dehydrated."

She had to think about that. Neither of them was big, though at about five foot nine Harry wasn't exactly short. The weights she was giving must have been close to a third of their total body weight. "You were starving yourselves to death." She stated confidently. Both of them just nodded.

"But then, what happened, Harry? From what she said you didn't slowly stop and realize what you were doing was wrong and change it, you did it suddenly, quickly." Something he'd told her that first night occurred to her. "You told me something about a delusion or a miracle. What was that?"

Mrs. Granger turned to him as well and she wondered if Harry had ever told her what had happened.

Harry looked at her intensely for a few moments then dropped his gaze before turning sideways to the table and slumping in his chair staring at the bottle in his hand. "Hermione;" He said softly, then tilted the bottle up and drained it before placing it on the table. "Hermione happened."

She looked at the other woman in confusion and received the same look back. So Harry hadn't told her what had happened either.

"What about Hermione, Harry? Did you see her? Her ghost perhaps?" She asked.

"Ghosts aren't solid. They don't have weight to depress a bed's mattress." It was obvious from his tone of voice this situation, whatever it had been, disturbed him.

Mrs. Granger reached across the table and laid her hand on his. "Harry, what happened?"

He was silent for a moment then sighed heavily before saying "I had woke up that morning and was about to wake you when I heard her." Narcissa saw her eyes widen in surprise. "She said 'If you're going to shag my mother for the rest of your life you could at least do it in a halfway sane state of mind.' And then I felt something pressing down on the bed at my feet. I sat up so fast I bounced and I saw her."

"You saw her?" She asked, trying to understand what he was saying.

He nodded rapidly. "She was sitting on the foot of the bed and all she had on was one of my quidditch jerseys. Her left leg went to the floor but her right one was pulled up so her foot was on the bed and I could see her leg clear up to her waist. She had her fingers laced together over her knee and had laid her cheek on them as she smiled at me." His look softened for a moment, lost in the memory before it hardened again. He looked at both of them with a hard determination to convince them. "She was there; she was real, solid, and not transparent like a ghost. I could have touched her." He slumped back in his chair. "And then I blinked and she was gone."

She could hear the despondency in his voice as he described what had happened but it was Mrs. Granger who spoke. "She was a hallucination, Harry, all in your mind caused by lack of food and water."

He looked up at her. "I would have agreed with you Emma, but where she had been sitting was depressed. I watched as the mattress expanded back to being flat. Only weight could have done that, weight that couldn't possibly have been there."

"A dream then. You only thought you were awake."

He snorted. "Emma, she _never_ wore one of my jerseys and if I'd been dreaming she wouldn't have been wearing that one, either."

She sat back in her chair and shook her head. "I swear to Merlin, Harry, Draco used to tell me some of the things that happened to you and I could barely believe half of them and now you go and tell me this. I've heard of some crazy forms of madness before but trying to commit suicide by sex has got to be so far out there people would only believe it because it's you."

Harry gave her a sideways glance and the corner of his mouth curled up. "Welcome to my life." He said as Emma sniggered from her side of the table.


	8. Chapter 8: Bonding

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron or anything else in JKR's wonderful world. Except for the little pebble just to left of the front doors of Hogwarts. I put that there. I might own that. Maybe. But probably not.

Also, if there's anything you recognize that you know I didn't think up, that ain't mine either.

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Bonding**

"Well, the important thing is you did manage to snap out of it and begin to think rationally again." Emma said. "I hate to think what would have happened if you hadn't."

"True." Harry stated with a nod.

"Now, go away."

"Huh?" Harry gave her a confused look.

"You heard me, go someplace else. Narcissa and I have things to discuss." She made a shooing motion with her hands.

The young man sat up in his chair and turned to face her. "What are you going to talk about that I can't hear?" he wanted to know.

"Female things. Now go!" When he didn't make any motion to do what he was told she got an expression on her face Narcissa had seen on the faces of just about every mother she knew, one that meant _right now!_ "Harry!" she said in an undoubtedly motherly way to a recalcitrant child.

He finally took the hint. "Alright, I'm going!" he grumbled and stood and walked away into the hall.

Narcissa grinned as she watched the most powerful wizard she knew be defeated by a mother's stare. She turned back to Emma. "What did…" she started to say before Emma raised a finger to silence her while looking at the doorway Harry had just exited through.

"Harry!" she called out with a hint of exasperation.

"Alright, I'm going, I'm going!" he grumbled some more and she realized he'd only gone around the corner and stopped to listen to what was about to be said, whatever that might be. "Merlin! A man can't even stand around in his own house anymore." She heard as his voice faded as he walked away mumbling to himself. She smiled and shook her head at how well the other woman had read him.

She turned to her again to find her leaning on the table. "What is he like in bed?" was the very unexpected, and intrusive she thought, question she immediately faced.

"I really don't think that's any of your business." Her answer was cold on purpose. Just because she'd been with Harry longer didn't give her any reason to expect an answer.

But her response was totally ignored by the brunette. "Does he consider your feelings during sex or does he just climb on and pound away?" she asked. "Does he enjoy it or is he just going through the motions?"

Narcissa stared at her. What kind of questions were those? Then she took note of her facial expression, at how concerned and serious she was about the questions and it struck her: maybe she did have a legitimate right to ask them. "You're worried he might fall back into the behavior, the animal like rutting, the two of you did."

"Yes. I know what I feel like just thinking about doing it and it scares the hell out of me to think I might fall back into the way we were." She sighed heavily. "The thought _he_ might do it scares me even more." The left side of her mouth curled up into a sad little smile. "I wasn't joking when I said I had a rather tenuous hold on sanity."

She suddenly saw just how much this woman cared for Harry. She wasn't asking about technique, or what they did for foreplay or how it felt, she wanted to know if the young man she cared for would be alright. "He's fine." She answered. "He's in complete control of himself and usually knows exactly what he's doing, even has fun even if he is pounding away." She smiled a little crookedly. "I found I rather like it that way."

Emma fell back into her chair, laid her head back and closed her eyes in what was obviously relief. "Oh, thank God." She murmured. She lifted her head and looked back at Narcissa. "Thank you for taking care of him."

"I hardly think I'm taking care of him." She replied. "We had a deal and I'm just living up to my end of it."

"And loving every minute of it." Emma smirked back at her.

"Well, I must admit I'm getting the best sex of my life with him." Her smile was more of a leer at the statement. "He's a very good lover and I don't think you have to worry about him lapsing back into the state the two of you were in."

She suddenly had a thought as her smile disappeared. "Are you upset that he's with me?"

Emma shook her head. "No, I'm actually glad he's with you. He's more relaxed since you've been here and if he's having fun like you say then that's even better."

Narcissa cocked her head a bit. "You really care for him, don't you?" she asked. "You want him to be happy."

Emma's smile was almost shy. "My little girl loved him so much, how can I not? He's practically the last of my family."

"This may seem intrusive, and if it is you don't have to answer, but do you want children with him?"

She grew wistful. "I'd have to say I would, if only to give him the family he wants and Hermione so wanted to give him, but…I can't. Hermione's birth almost killed me, literally, and I spent the last trimester in bed. The doctor had scheduled a C-section…"

"Pardon?" Narcissa interrupted. "I've never heard that term."

"It's a medical procedure where the doctor surgically cuts into the womb to remove the baby in cases where there are risks to the health of the baby, the mother or both." Explained Emma. "It's usually a very safe procedure."

"Usually." Narcissa prompted. "I take it in your case something went wrong."

Emma nodded. "Hermione decided she wanted to enter the world on her schedule and I went into labor the night before the procedure. Everything happened so fast she was already in the birth canal by the time they could have done anything but by then it was too late. I was bleeding heavily as she was born and the only way they could save my life was an emergency hysterectomy." At her confused look she went on. "They removed my womb."

She felt a little nauseous at the thought. "They cut it out of you?"

Emma nodded. "I'm guessing that's not a known procedure in your world?"

"Surgery of any kind is very rarely used. It's considered as a barbaric practice fit only for…"

Emma's eyebrow rose as she considered her hesitation. "Muggles?"

She didn't sugar coat her answer. "Yes. Sorry, that's just the way it is."

"Well, we can't just wave a stick around and fix all of our ailments like you can, so we do the best that we can." Her lip curled up into a wry smile. "What about you? Would you want to have his children?"

She leaned back in her chair. "In my position that would be a bad idea." She replied. "I _am_ still a married woman but my husband is in prison and everyone knows it. If I had a child they would know it wasn't Lucius', he wouldn't acknowledge it anyway and while Harry could acknowledge it they wouldn't be a Potter but a Malfoy; a bastard Malfoy. I won't subject a child to that sort of thing."

"Couldn't you get a divorce?"

She shook her head. "At the time it wasn't worth it and now it's useful to still be 'Lady Malfoy'. A noble lady is much better for what we're going to be doing than a Miss Black."

Emma grinned back at her. "Ooohh, snobby, stuck up class prejudices are still in play, huh?"

She returned the grin. "Very much so and I intend to make use of every one of them." _Oh yes, I certainly intend to use them all!_

((((((OOOOO))))))

An anguished cry awoke her into the darkened room, her sleep addled mind flashing to a time when screams in the middle of the night weren't that unusual. It took several seconds for her to realize they weren't off in a different part of the house but right beside her in bed however.

Harry screamed again, an impassioned cry of denial as he thrashed around beside her.

"Harry!" She cried as she shook him, trying to wake the young man. "Harry, wake up!" It did no good as a flailing arm hit her in the chest.

Ignoring the pain she brought up the lights before trying to grab his shoulders and pin him to the bed, to no avail as he twisted from her grip with another pleading cry.

"Winky!"

The house elf appeared within seconds of her yell. "Winky! Bring me a calming draught, quickly!"

Unbelievably the elf didn't obey. "No," she said with a shake of her head, "that not do." She vanished with a pop.

Narcissa gaped at where she'd been standing for only a second before Harry lashed out again, his toe nails raking down the side of her leg as he kicked out. Only the blanket wrapped and twisted around his foot prevented a row of deep gouges being left behind in her flesh.

A sudden 'pop' announced Winky's return, and to her surprise she'd brought someone else with her.

Emma Granger took one look at the situation, issued one short curse and slid into bed on the other side of the wailing young man. Pulling his head into her upper chest she held him close and began stroking his hair. "Harry, it's alright! She's safe now." She murmured soothingly, even as she endured several blows from swinging arms.

"Shhhh, Harry." She continued in a soft soothing voice, still stroking his hair. "It's all right, she's fine, she's safe; they can't hurt her anymore."

Narcissa watched as he slowly calmed under her ministrations, the thrashing limbs slowing and finally stopping as his anguished cries turned into sobs on the other woman's breast. She couldn't know what his nightmare was about but she could certainly guess who it was about as the sobs finally stopped, to be replaced by deep calm breaths. Feeling superfluous she began to slide out of the bed.

"Please, stay." She heard a whispered entreaty.

She turned and looked into deep chocolate brown eyes, eyes filled with care and compassion, eyes she had looked into so many years before as they had defied her sister.

She slid back into bed and spooned into Harry as he lay up against the mother of the young woman whose voice still cried in the back of her mind.

A sweep of her hand and the room was once again lit by only the light of the moon coming through the window.

((((((OOOOO))))))

She slowly became aware of a warm body at her back. In a drowsy half sleep she rolled over and threw her arm over it as she once again spooned into Harry's back. She sleepily caressed his taut muscled, silky smooth belly before sliding her hand up to rub and squeeze the firm mound in her palm…

"Eeeep!" She bleated as adrenaline brought her to full wakefulness as she backed away to the far side of the bed from what was definitely not Harry Potter's body! "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I thought you were Harry!" She gasped out as she pulled the sheet up to cover herself.

"Pity. I was beginning to enjoy that." A calm voice, with just a touch of amusement, said from the reclining body.

"Huh? What? I mean…"Narcissa stumbled, not quite understanding, or believing, what she'd heard.

Emma rolled over to face her with a chuckle. "Relax Narcissa." She said, smiling. "I'm not unfamiliar with that sort of thing and I really don't mind." She grinned. "Dan wasn't the only one to wake up half asleep with the equivalent of morning wood occasionally."

"But I'm not… We're not…" She stammered, damning her inability to talk sensibly.

Emma chuckled again. "No we're not." She agreed. "But my roommate at University had a habit of waking me up like that and I really don't mind at all so please, just calm yourself."

Wanting to change the subject, and get her tongue untied as well as her brain working, she asked "Where's Harry?"

"He got up about an hour to go to go run." The brunette replied. "He's probably in the gym by now, exercising."

Her brows rose in surprise. "Exercising? Why?"

Emma grinned lasciviously. "How do you think he keeps that sexy body of his?" Not waiting for an answer she went on. "He says strength and endurance can help build your magical core and in some cases it's not the better wizard who wins the fight, it's the one who can last the longest."

That was true, she thought, though most witches and wizards didn't bother to exercise anyway. Though if it helped Harry look the way it did…!

"That got your attention!" Chortled the other woman.

She looked down to realize that the tightly drawn sheet showed her hardened nipples quite nicely. "Well, this is definitely a different personality from your 'kill all the magicals and feed them to the dragons' one." She said, trying to divert the conversation.

Emma chuckled. "I suppose it is." She said as she raised her arms above her head and stretched, the maneuver pulling her blue silk nightgown against her body. In the two weeks since their introduction to each other she had seen the other woman dressed in different styles of clothing but none had displayed her body like that thin covering of silk. Narcissa was impressed: for a Muggle woman, who had to be at least in her mid 40s, an age she knew Muggles considered middle age, Emma Granger had a beautiful body.

"But you're helping Harry change that," the object of her inspection interrupted her introspection, "so I'm giving you a pass." She grinned. She'd finished her stretch and was now laying on her side facing Narcissa, an arm up and under the pillow cradling her head.

Narcissa, conscious of her nudity, lay back down as well, keeping herself covered with the sheet as she mirrored her position. The woman might not have minded the accidental groping earlier but she didn't want to possibly offend her in some way that might be taken as sexual. "I'm pleased to hear that." She replied across the space of bed between them.

"And I would like to thank you."

That took her by surprise. "For what?"

"Harry came to my bed three nights ago."

That was an even bigger surprise. She'd thought he'd been out as the gray man and just hadn't come to bed with her. She'd never given a thought that he might be in Emma's bed. Given Emma's state of mind about his mental state during sex, it didn't even bother her that he'd been with her. Considering her fears however she was hoping something good had come of it. "You're welcome. Might I ask how it went?"

Emma smiled. "Wonderfully. I still have problems, though less than I was afraid of, but Harry was so kind and gentle it was the best sex since Dan."

She smiled, happy for the other woman. "Any problems?"

Emma's face darkened. "Only with me." She said. "The old feelings, wants and desires rose up in me. I wanted him to climb on, to fill and pound me as fast as he could to an end, but he wouldn't. He stopped me, held me, talked to me, and while he did that he touched me and caressed me, loved me; and then he made love to me. When I tried to rush him he'd stop me and kiss me, let me settle down before he went on. And when we were done, for the first time since before Dan died I felt like a woman who just been made love to, not some rutting animal. I actually cared about how I felt for the first time in years." She sounded wistful and happy.

Narcissa smiled, please for her. "Why thank me though? Harry did it."

"Because he hasn't touched me since we came here. I think he was afraid to, that he'd revert to what we'd been before. Being with you showed him he wouldn't." She smiled warmly. "He smiles and laughs more now, too. I haven't seen him this happy since before he left with Hermione. You've helped him a great deal more than you realize."

She smiled in reply. "He's helped me a great deal as well and not just the monetary side of our agreement."

"I imagine he has. From what I've heard about you, both from Harry and Hermione, I expected a stuck up, snooty, pretentious woman."

"Believe me, being a whore in Knockturn alley for a year tends to quickly knock any pretensions out of you. They get in the way of your survival."

"If you don't mind my asking, how bad was it?"

"The first month was the worst." She said with a sigh, remembering that awful time. "I was close to starving, barely managing to make enough for the rent on my room. One of the other girls showed me some tricks of the trade to help me get more customers, which was a risk on her part as I might have ended up taking some of her potential customers. Then word got out as to where I was and what I was doing and my… _friends_ …" the word came out with all the vitriol she could put into it, "started showing up. The bastards knew what it meant to be where I was, the lowest dive in the alley, and they all refused to pay me more than five Knuts at a time. I couldn't argue or bargain, I needed the money to much, but at least the increase in volume gave me more money so I was able to eat better and to buy things that I needed."

She huffed in disgust. "The sex wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was the feeling of humiliation and degradation. They didn't let me have any pretensions. They just wanted to use me and make me know they were using me either simply because of who I was or to get back at Lucius." She shook her head. " _Not_ a good time in my life."

She was silent for a moment before going on. "After a couple of months they mostly stopped coming. They'd had their fun and made their point. After that it was just regular business and I could start negotiating better prices."

She suddenly chuckled. "Actually the best price I ever got was from the women."

"Women?" Said a surprised Emma.

"It wasn't unheard of." She said. "Some are witch's witches and they'll come down to the alleys to have some fun. They're usually disguised or glamoured in some way. I had three of them come to me in the first few months. I demanded a galleon from each of them."

"What did they want?" Emma asked. "Just regular sex or what?"

She shrugged. "The first two were really bossy and demanding, being very exacting in how they wanted me to please them." She explained. "I didn't much care for it but they were paying with gold so I went along. The third one though, she showed up with nothing on under her cloak but stockings, shoes and glamours to disguise her looks!"

Emma's eyes widened. "Really? Nothing else?" she asked with a leer.

"Nothing." She replied with a shake of her head. "She was also totally opposite from the other two: she wanted me to spank her and then make her please me. She didn't do a bad job of it either. I actually got off."

"A bit of a power trip, huh?" Emma said with a smirk.

"Well, I must say it did feel good to be in control of something again even if it was for only just a little while." She replied wistfully. "To have her on her knees in front of me doing exactly what I told her to felt so right. For that short amount of time I had power again and I used it and I liked it!"

Emma laughed. "No pretensions, huh?" she giggled. "You didn't lose them; you just shoved them into a closet until you could put them on and wear them again."

She smirked, pleased at the woman's analogy. "Oh yes." She told her quietly. "I'll keep them stored away until it's time to take them out again…"

"New years."

Her smirk turned into a dangerous smile. "I once told Harry payback was a bitch and her name was Narcissa and on the night I reenter high society a _LOT_ of people are going to find out just how pretentious I can be."

Emma laughed. "Don't forget to kick them while they're down."

Narcissa grinned. "You sound like you mean that."

"The people you want revenge on are the same people I wouldn't mind seeing destroyed." She answered. "Why wouldn't I mean it?"

Narcissa contemplated the woman for a moment. "I think I could get to like you." She said with a conspiratorial smirk. "Want to try to be friends?"

Emma grinned back at her. "What? A noble pureblood be friends with a lowly dirty muggle? Whatever would your friends say?"

She snorted. "Those friends helped make me a five Knut whore who's cheating on her husband with a young man half her age." She retorted. "If you can work with that I can certainly get my hands dirty with someone who wants to see them groveling as much as I do."

Emma's grin widened. "I think," she stated as she extended her hand, "that this is going to be a day certain people are going to come to believe a match was made in Hell."

Her own grin just as wide, Narcissa took the offered hand. "And may they curse it for the rest of their lives!"

((((((OOOOO))))))

Narcissa stuck a bookmark into the paperback book she was reading and closed it before setting it down. "Oh Merlin!" She exclaimed, fanning herself with her hands.

From beside her Emma laughed. "See why they're called bodice rippers?" She asked.

"Is that even legal to sell?" Narcissa asked.

Emma laughed again. "That's one of the tamer ones." She said.

"Tame?" The witch exclaimed. "That would be labeled pornographic in Diagon Alley!"

The two of them were sitting by the pool working on their tans, wearing only the bottoms of their bikinis. Narcissa had brought up the idea, having seen topless beaches in France and wanting to give it a try and Emma had agreed explaining the Granger's had visited topless or even nude beaches while on vacation.

The current subject of their conversation was what Emma referred to as romance novels, a.k.a. the aforementioned bodice rippers.

"Oh please." Emma scoffed. "A little nudity and non-descriptive touching? That's nowhere near pornographic."

"You mean some are more… descriptive?" Narcissa asked in a skeptical tone of voice.

Once again Emma laughed. "Cissy, depending on the author you can have anything from not even kissing until after the central characters are married, which is where the book will end any way, to them shagging in the middle of the living room floor before the middle of the first chapter. That will include a very detailed description of every little thing they do, how they do it, what it feels like as they do it and what they're thinking as it's being done."

Narcissa looked down at the book lying in her lap. "Merlin! Just how many authors of this stuff are there?"

"Dozens, in every type of genre you can imagine."

"Like what?"

"Oh, modern-day, any historical period you may want, religious, small country towns, big cities, any kind of situation you can think of really."

"This is what they read in the mundane world?"

"Heavens no, not just those." Emma shook her head. "There are way more types of books than just romance. There are crime novels, spy novels, science fiction, fantasy, science fantasy, love stories, historical, horror, comedy, again just about anything you can think of. Then you have your history books, reference books, informative books, how to books, self-help, travel, hobby, depending on what you're looking for you can spend hours in a modern bookstore."

"What was that science fiction thing you mentioned?"

"Do you have Jules Verne in the magical world?"

Narcissus snorted. "He's about the newest author we have, along with Poe."

"Well, Verne wrote science fiction. You take what you know of science now and extrapolate that into what it may be able to do in the future. Everything he wrote about, submarines, airplanes, rockets to the moon, is now science fact. Everybody who read his stories when he first published them thought they were just dreams or wishful thinking. It's like that today. 50 or 60 years ago robots and mechanical brains were just some flight of fancy but today many companies use robots to do tedious, repetitive or dangerous tasks and computers control them. Computers are so common, almost everybody has one. Science fiction may sound crazy now but in the near or distant future it may be an established fact that's taken for granted."

"That certainly explains why I didn't know what it was: wizards don't think that way." She got a puzzled look. "Does that mean in the future we may be flying through outer space and having little creatures tearing our chests open to escape?"

Emma guffawed. "Did Harry have you watch that movie?" She asked when she could talk again. "I hope you smacked him when that happened."

"I did, hard. He just laughed at me."

Emma grinned at her response. "Well, smack him again." She changed the subject. "I've noticed you have very few magazines."

She shrugged." Teen Witch, Witch Weekly, the Quibbler and a few more, mostly about potions. Why? How many do you have?"

"Pick your subject dearie and I guarantee there's a magazine about it."

"Really?"

"Really. There are so many magazines there are magazines about magazines. You want something that talks about fashion, you got it. Bridal gowns or wedding details, yep. Want to know how to design, build, decorate or renovate a house? One for each, all in one or any combination thereof. Hunting, fishing, animal husbandry, multiple names for every category. Hobbies of every description, antiques, collecting, world travel, art, history, you name it if they don't have it I'm sure they can find it for you."

She was looking at the other woman, thinking on what she saying when an idea occurred to her: if you wanted to get people interested in an idea, what better way was there than to show them?

Emma finally noticed how she was staring at her. She met the witch's gaze with one of her own for a few seconds. With almost a wordless communication they both turn their heads to the house simultaneously.

" _ **HARRY**_!"

((((((OOOOO))))))

"That was a wonderful movie!" Narcissa uncurled from the couch as the credits began to roll. "Love and tragedy, comedy and serious thoughts on life and friendship and for once everything centered around the women."

"Those are some of the best actresses of our time." said Emma as she rose from her chair.

"I can well believe it." Narcissa laughed. "'Hit Wieser!' Oh, the look on her face!"

"You would remember that the best." Emma smiled as she ejected the movie from the player. "Want another one?"

"Do you have Star Wars?"

Emma turned to her with a pained expression. "Really? That boy has corrupted you. What is it about that movie that everyone loves so much?" she asked as she found the requested disc.

"Lots of explosions and R2 sounds so funny when he screams." Was her laughing reply.

Narcissa watched the woman shake her head as she put the disc in the machine. "Do you have anything to drink?" she asked. The first movie had been almost two hours and she was thirsty.

"Diet orange only for now, unless you'd like some tea. Or water."

"Orange? Really? I've never had any of that."

"Well I had some cola but I sort of got on the orange kick a while ago. I'll have to get Winky to get me some more. Want some popcorn?"

"Oooh, yeah! Got kettle corn? I'll pop it."

"Not in my apartment you won't!"

"In the microwave." She said with a roll of her eyes, though she could understand the statement: do _not_ destroy the electronics!

"You know how to use a microwave?" she could hear the surprise in the woman's voice.

"Sure. Harry showed me when we were in Europe."

"Alright, but all I have is extra butter."

"That's second best." She took the bag and dropped it in the microwave and shut the door…then stood looking at the front of the machine. "Uh, Em, this doesn't look anything like what they had in Europe. They just had buttons with cooking times."

Emma chuckled as she stepped over to the oven. "You have to hit program, then the power level you want, then the amount of time." she explained. "But luckily for you there's a button strictly for popcorn you can press." She did so.

She frowned. "You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

A laugh. "Never. Hermione had to show me how to program the VCR and she was six at the time. Talk about feeling silly."

She watched the bag expanding through the door as Emma filled glasses and set a big bowl on the counter, then gingerly pulled the hot paper out and carefully pulled it open so the escaping steam didn't blow right into her face. She dumped the contents into the bowl.

Emma reached over and scooped some corn into a smaller bowl for herself. "Drink's on the counter." She said as she headed back into the living room.

Picking up her drink and bowl she followed her, stepping from the cool tile floor of the kitchen onto the sinfully comfortable carpeting in the other room, her bare feet cushioned by the thick pile and padding.

Setting her glass on the end table after taking a drink, and it was good, she sat back on the couch and tucked her feet up under her as the movie started and grabbed some yellowish white puffed corn out of the bowl.

… **In A Galaxy Far, Far Away** …

She crunched some corn. Life was good.

((((((OOOOO))))))

"Harry, you're not paying attention." She looked across the table at the young man with a guilty look on his face. "I realize it's a lot of information to take in but knowing about your potential enemies could save your life one day, both figuratively and literally."

He nodded back at her, lifting his head from his hand where he'd been resting it. "I'm sorry, 'Cissa. I understand what you're saying, and I really do appreciate what you're doing, but it's just fact, fact, fact after fact for what seems like forever and they're all starting to run together in my head and turning my brain into pudding. Nothing is sticking right now."

She gazed at him for a few seconds, thinking about what he'd said. He'd been working hard for weeks as she had fulfilled her role as teacher to him, but she realized only now that the constant barrage of information, much of which she agreed was incredibly boring, might be starting to burn him out. She remembered with great clarity the night before her own N.E.W.T.s when she'd found herself staring at pages of notes on varying subjects and not remembering a single word on any of them, her mind a complete blank. She looked at him for several moments before coming up with an idea of what to do, at least in the short term.

"Alright Harry, I understand what you're saying and after today I'll try to tone it down a bit." She told him. "But for now, let's finish this and then I'll give you a test."

"Uuuugggghhhh!" he moaned as his forehead hit the table. "A test? Nooo!"

She leered at him as she continued. "This will be a special test, Harry, with a special incentive to pass."

He raised his head to look at her, saw her expression and his own took on an intense look of interest. "Special how?" he questioned.

She leaned over the table and braced herself on it with her hands, making certain he had a _very_ good view of her cleavage. Sometimes there was just no denying that non-magical clothing was better than robes. Judging from where his eyes went he was taking every advantage of that fact.

"I will ask questions over what I've been telling you and for every one you get right I will take off something I have on: a piece of clothing, jewelry, whatever." She explained in a low, sultry voice, still leering wickedly. "Get it wrong and I put something on. If, at the end of the test, I'm uncovered enough to have sex without having to remove anything, we will, in any way you want." As a further enticement she twisted her upper body from side to side. She was wearing a very good bra but it still let her breasts swing gently back and forth in a licentious way.

He grinned as he reached forward, hands open to grab her. "Oooh! Strip pop quiz! Let's play!"

She backed away out of his reach with a laugh. "You have to pass the test first!"

"Bummer." He pouted before sitting up attentively. "OK, teach, let's go!"

She grinned at his newfound exuberance. "Alright, next target on your hit list: Lord William Acton. Not Bill or Billy, William. He's only a Noble house but one of the most stick-up-his-arse arrogant bastard of a Pureblood you're ever going to meet. Currently the leader of the Dark faction and now one of the richest amongst their members. That's because he was never a marked Death Eater due to his age and a bad left knee; he walks with a cane, which he has been known to use as a weapon. He supported Riddle fervently but kept a low profile about it and thus managed to avoid most of the Ministry's enquiries after the war. Has had over a dozen Honor duels and won them all but from what I can tell they were all against young wizards, muggleborn and halfbloods, so I can't tell you how good he is.

Family wise he had two sons, both married but the elder was killed in the war and…"

((((((OOOOO))))))

She looked at Harry, who was hungrily staring at her. She'd have to say he had a good reason to: as a result of his 'test' results all she had on were her stockings and garter belt. She hadn't made it easy either; he had earned what he was about to receive, and she found herself eager to give it. A good, hard shag before dinner and she'd be ready again by bed time. Merlin, had her life gotten better the day the Gray Man had brought her to Harry's house!

She raised her hands up behind her head, lifting her hair, and struck a sexy pose. "Ready for your reward Harry?" she leered at him, her hardened nipples and wetness between her legs both witness to her own eager readiness.

He looked her up and down, desire evident in his eyes before he said, "I'd love to Narcissa but I've got things to do."

Wait. _What?_

He was up and out of his chair before she could move, turning out of the door before she had and gone before she got around the table.

 _How dare he?_ She fumed. _How could he? More important than_ her? "Harry Potter! You come back here!" she yelled at him as she exited the study they'd been in, only to see an empty hall way…before invisible hands grabbed her by her upper arms, spun her around and pressed her against the wall. She felt a body against hers and then lips against her own as the _disillusionment_ charm melted away revealing Harry. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him as she returned the kiss, heat building rapidly in her as she felt him pressing into her lower belly. She moaned as he bent his knees, dipped down and rose within her, filling her oh… so… well with one hard thrust. She raised her legs and locked them around his waist as he took her bum in his hands and lifted her against the wall to begin a steady pounding that shook her to her core and OH _MERLIN_ was it good!

Harry pulled his head back to look into her eyes with a shite eating grin and grunted out "Any…way…I…want…Cissy!"

She pulled him to her as her forehead fell against his own and closed her eyes as the first feelings of her impending climax began to be felt. "OH, HAR…"

" **EWW**! **GROSS**!"

Her body froze even as her head snapped back to impact painfully with the wall. _They'd been caught! Merlin! Somebody had found them in a hallway…_ she thought as she dropped her legs to the floor even as Harry was trying frantically to tuck himself away as she was trying to find something, anything, to cover herself…

" **GET A ROOM!** "

 _Wait a minute!_ She suddenly froze again as the reality of the situation hit her. _We're adults! In Harry's house! We can do whatever the hell we want!_

She looked to her right, towards the intruding voice to see a laughing Emma Granger at a cross connecting hallway even as Harry started laughing as well. She turned to look at him and saw the look of hilarity in his face and knew there was no regaining, or finishing, what they'd just had. He leaned towards her and kissed her forehead before turning away and walking off, still laughing.

She turned her attention back to the other person in the hall. "You bitch!" she shouted angrily. Emma, still laughing, turned and walked into the connecting hallway. "You slag!" _How dare she do that? How dare she interrupt them!_ "You bint!" she was almost to the connector and she could hear the muggle woman's laughter had been reduced to mere chuckles as she walked away. "You…you…you…MUGGLE!" she screamed out the worse curse she could think of.

A new burst of laughter was her only reply. With an impotent cry of rage she turned and tried to stomp back into the study and her clothes, but found out stomping in nothing but stocking feet tended to hurt, which did her temper no good.

((((((OOOOO))))))

Dressed once again and her temper once again in check Narcissa headed to the nook for a light snack. She wanted something to tide her over until dinner and thought some tea and scones would do the trick. Finding a certain brunette haired woman already in the nook told her she'd had the same idea as well. Just to show she wasn't the vindictive sort, she totally ignored her as she sat down and started pouring a cup of tea.

Emma grinned at her. "Everything alright there, 'Cis?" she inquired before taking a sip of her own tea.

Without even looking at her she replied with a disdainful sniff, "You are evil and must be destroyed." Screw not being vindictive!

Upon hearing the line from the movie, Emma's grin widened even further. "Aww 'Cissy, you know I love you more than my luggage!"

Without even turning her head she gave her nemesis a sideways glare, eyes narrowed to thin slits. Without a word she stood … then quickly side stepped around the corner of the table and slammed the side of her hip into Emma's. With a shriek of laughter the woman struggled to find purchase and retain her seat but she was off balance and the witch was braced and had the advantage of surprise. With a yell Emma slid off the side of the chair and landed on her bum on the floor with a loud thump. Bracing herself she looked up as Narcissa slid onto her recent seat and pulled her tea and scone across the table to rest in front of her.

"That wasn't very nice, Narcissa." She said, though she was smiling as she said it.

Narcissa looked down at her with only a sideways glance and a smirk as she buttered the pastry. "True." She answered. "But who's sitting on the chair and who's sitting on the floor?"

Laughing loudly Emma lay back on the floor and laced her fingers together over her stomach.

((((((OOOOO))))))

"Harry, it's a trip to the library, for God's sake!" Emma said with more than a touch of irritation and exasperation. "How many magicals are even going to know where it is much less enter it since it's non-magical?"

"You know why I don't want her leaving the grounds, Em." The young man she was addressing responded.

"Yes, yes, you want to kick everybody in the teeth with your grand reveal at New Year's." She answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But she's not me. I don't mind being cooped up in this tiny, little, ramshackle shed for months at a time."

Narcissa grinned at her description of Potter Manor. Being cooped up here wouldn't be a bother but would get to be boring after a while. Plus, Emma's idea had merit.

"Besides, Harry, look at her!" The woman gestured at her. "Would you recognize her if you saw her walking down the street?"

There was that as well, she thought. In light blue slacks and sleeveless white blouse with open heeled sandals she was dressed in a manner no pureblood would be caught in and the light bronze tan she had acquired on their vacation had darkened her normally light skin to a point where she hardly recognized herself when she looked in a mirror. The raven black hair Harry had wanted her to have went even further to disguise her.

"And if you want her to help convince the magical world of everything going for the mundane one she needs to know what she's talking about." She set her hands on her hips and cocked her head at him. "She needs to know the history of our world so she can explain it. She's not going to get that here."

She could tell Emma was getting through to him. He had the intense look of concentration he'd get when he was running through things in his mind.

"And even if she is spotted and recognized, who's going to believe it? She's dead, remember? Or a sex slave, or chained up in someone's dungeons for the crime of not being found guilty at her trial." She laughed. "Do you honestly think Skeeter or that rag she writes for are actually going to write that Narcissa Malfoy, fallen Princess of magical high society goes to a Muggle library?" She snorted this time. "Get real, Harry. Even for Skeeter it's a non-story. It's just not going to happen."

Harry grinned at the description of her as she finished her argument. "Besides, even if she's spotted there's nothing to connect her to you. Showing up with you at the ball will still be the big surprise you want it to be."

Narcissa was impressed with Emma's arguing ability and reasoning. She could see she had already gotten Harry to agree to their outing, though he hadn't said so yet.

But he did. "All right, you can go, but be careful. Now, how are you going to get there? Side along?"

"I'll drive." Emma replied. "That way she can see the sights and find places she can jump to when she wants to go back."

"Back?" His reaction made very clear he'd thought this was a onetime thing.

"Harry," she said patiently before Emma could. "If I'm going to learn about the non-magical world I'm going to need a _lot_ of time. I can't do it in an afternoon. And I thought I'd apparate to Kings Cross and take a taxi after the first time. The ride we took to the airport whet my appetite to see the rest of London."

Harry heaved a sigh. "Okay, I can't fight both of you. But find another place to apparate to; the station is too dangerous even if it's hardly used most of the year. There's always the chance someone could be there. Just try to stay out of trouble."

Narcissa laughed as Emma pulled a totally unbelievable face and brought her hands up to her chest. "Moi? Get into trouble? Never!"

Harry just grimaced and shook his head as he headed out of the room.

((((((OOOOO))))))

The drive in to London was much like their leisurely drive up through France had been, just not as long. She saw more of the English countryside in the two hour drive than she'd seen the rest of her life. She was reminded once again just how insular the magical world, and especially the purebloods, was.

She and Emma talked the entire way, about anything and everything that caught their fancy and she was struck by how easily they got along. She couldn't remember anybody she'd been so close to or confiding in other than her sisters. She found she rather enjoyed and valued the friendship offered by the other woman.

They didn't pass by as many historical landmarks as on her last visit but she was still overwhelmed by the size of the city and the sheer number of people in it.

But she was awestruck by the size of the library. She was used to family libraries taking up a room: a large room perhaps, but still just a room. The Black library was probably 15 to 20,000 books and scrolls, the Potter one easily twice that size. She just stared in fascinated disbelief as she was escorted into a two-story building that could easily equal three of the Hogwarts Great Hall. There weren't just rooms but entire galleries of books here!

"How many are there?" She asked in a stunned whisper. Nothing Emma had said had even suggested a trove of books like this.

"Last I heard they had over half a million books here." Emma replied quietly to the wide eyed woman. "But that was years ago and this is just a branch of the library of London. It's even bigger." She suddenly grinned. "You're not just interested in size, are you Cis?" She asked in a playful voice. "After all, it's not size that counts, it's what you do with it!"

She stared at her friend for a second before giving her a backhanded slap on the arm. "You perv." She said, and then turned back to the reason she was here. "How do you find anything in here?"

Emma grinned back at her. "Come on, I'll show you."

She was astounded by how easy it was. A muggle by the name of Dewey had invented a system of categorizing books by subject and author and then used numbers to place them in their places. Find your subject in a card file, or a computer program doing the same thing, find its number, then find the area it was in. ' _Why didn't we ever use something like this?'_ she wondered, thinking of all the endless hours of searching shelf after shelf at Hogwarts she'd wasted looking for a particular book or volume.

But it wasn't just books. She marveled at rack upon rack of magazines pertaining to everything under the sun; newspapers from dozens of places around the world; videos and films, both historical and not. They even had computers that allowed them to get on the Internet. Her new favorite word became Google when a simple query she typed in came back with dozens or even hundreds of references.

After several hours of exploring, reading, examining and immersing herself in the knowledge and lore of an entirely different world than the one she'd grown up in, they took a break and were sitting in a couple of padded armchairs in a small nook under a window. It was obvious the nook and chairs were there exactly for that reason, just to be a place to sit, relax and read a book.

"Well 'Cis, what do you think of we poor savages now?" Emma had a huge grin as she sat back and relaxed.

"If you had told me about this I wouldn't have believed you. The mathematics section alone is so overwhelming; if you were to throw a master of arithmancy in there they'd go spare in a heartbeat. I would, however, love to see McGonagall going up against one of your physicists." She grinned as she contemplated the encounter.

Emma grinned back at her. "So you're saying there's no reason to come back." She stated impishly.

"Tell me again why I'm friends with you?"

"I'm the only one who would have you?"

"Harry wants me." She said smugly.

Emma flicked her fingers in a throw away gesture. "Meh. He's male, young and horny."

She mocked scowled back at her. "I'm going to change you into a toad."

Emma just laughed.

* * *

 **A/N: Tammgrogan: Is this better?**


	9. Chapter 9: Snippets and Characters

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron or anything else in JKR's wonderful world. Except for the little pebble just to left of the front doors of Hogwarts. I put that there. I might own that. Maybe. But probably not.

* * *

Chapter 9: Snippets and Characters

Narcissa leaned over, hands on her knees, panting for her breath. _What am I_ doing? She thought _. Why am I putting myself through this?_ She looked down at the trainers on her feet. _Trainers! What would people say if they saw her wearing them? Not to mention the shorts, sports bra and loose tank top she had on. Was this torture worth it?_

"Come on, slowpoke." Emma Granger called to her with a smile as she jogged in place. "Harry's getting way ahead."

She turned her head sideways to glare at her. "I hate you." She said with feeling. A lot of feeling.

The other woman ignored her with a laugh before coming over and taking her by the arm. "It'll get better." She said as she pulled her into a slow jog once again.

Narcissa didn't believe her.

((((((OOOOO))))))

Harry had found out something when he'd taken up the gray outfit of the Gray Man: the denizens of Knockturn Alley and places like it had highly refined senses of self-preservation. Take, for instance, one Fergus McClellan, just now staggering out of the Randy Boar pub. Drunk though he may be if his eyes had slid across an area where a concealing charm such as a notice-me-not was in force, and they had skipped from point A to point C without seeing the point B his subconscious mind knew had to be there, that same subconscious mind would have flashed into a fight or flight reflex to impress the most skittish wild animal. The barest distortion of what he could see caused by a disillusionment charm? Bye-bye baby.

It had been a great source of aggravation to him that so many of his targets had gotten away in those early days before he had gotten wise to what was going on.

His invisibility cloak had fixed the disillusionment problem once he'd decided that not enough people knew he even had it to endanger his identity if he wore it and the ones who did know probably wouldn't be in Knockturn when he was anyway.

He'd solved the other problem with a charm nobody would even think of using to hide anything as big as a magically expanded crack in a wall to something the size big enough to hide two grown men: glamours. Nobody used glamour's for things like that. Glamour's were for hiding small imperfections, changing hair color, the shape of your nose, your eye color. They were for small, insignificant things.

Which made them perfect for Harry's purposes. There was, after all, nothing that said you _couldn't_ use them on big things.

As Fergus staggered down the alley his eyes saw what he expected to see: the wooden front of a typical alley building. That pesky subconscious mind saw nothing to worry about.

Too bad.

Harry fired off two spells as Fergus passed between him and his expanded crack, a sticking charm and a banisher. Fergus' startled cry was abruptly cut off as he was flung sideways into the enchanted space and the silencing spell within.

Harry waited a minute or two to see if the short, startled cry had attracted any attention. Not that it was likely. In Knockturn short, startled cries usually meant someone was doing something to someone else that they might not like having witnesses to. Being a witness might mean you'd make a short, startled cry of your own at some point, something that brought the thought of finely-honed survival instincts to the fore once again.

When no one appeared after a couple of minutes Harry shrugged off his cloak and put it into a pocket before stepping across to his hidden room, such as it was. The moment he stepped through the glamour his ears came under an aural assault.

"…ELP! CAN ANYBODY… OH MERCIFUL SAINTS AND MERLIN, NO!" Fergus' pleading cries for help changed dramatically at seeing who his captor was.

"Hello Fergus." He said pleasantly to the terrified man stuck to the back wall of the cavity. He was back against the wall, his right arm up and over his head, his right leg bent and his ankle under the left leg's knee. His left arm was out to the side and he was a foot off the ground as he hung there. He was also bug eyed as he stared at Harry, or rather the Shadow/Gray Man.

"What do you want? I don' know nuttin'." He snapped out hurriedly in a whiny voice, obviously terrified.

Harry looked up at him. "No? Well, that's too bad." He said in a conversational voice. "I was really hoping to talk to you about the White's." The Noble House of White was dark and the youngest noble house in the magical world, attaining that position only two weeks before the Statute of Secrecy went into effect in 1692. Many people, then and now, were certain they'd been awarded the honor for the money they'd slipped to someone rather than any great service they'd done for the crown. They'd been thought to be blackguards, scoundrels, rascals and just plain criminals at the time and apparently nobody's opinion had changed since then, they were just very good at disguising it. Of course, the 'accidents' that frequently happened to anyone who had the temerity to bring up such accusations in polite company might have had something to do with it as well.

But they had money and always seemed to be able to get more, though nobody seemed to know how.

Which was one of the reasons he was so interested in them, thus explaining Mister McClellan's current predicament.

If anything, McClellan's eyes got even wider at the topic Harry wanted to discuss. "No, no I don' know nuttin' about them people, nuttin' at all." He denied, trying to shake his head against the sticking charm.

"Nothing at all?" Harry asked, still keeping a normal speaking voice. At least as normal as his magically manipulated voice sounded.

Without any threats and with Harry speaking so casually McClellan started to calm down. "No sir, nuttin' at all. Them Whites are some nasty people iff'n you get'em angry at you. I never wanted to have nuttin' to do with 'em."

"Now that really surprises me, Fergus." He stated as he put the tip of his finger to the middle of the man's left forearm. "You see, I have it from two different sources that you work for them quite regularly."

McClellan's eyes widened again before darting to Harry's finger.

Harry pulsed a bit of magic through his finger and the snap/crack of shattering bone in the quiet little space was quickly drowned out by the trapped man's scream as Harry's bone breaking curse shattered his forearm.

Harry felt no regrets, no remorse at all over what he'd just done. In the course of his time gathering information he'd come to know many of the people who frequented Knockturn and he knew Fergus was nothing but a hooligan, one who sold his talents for hurting people, and probably killing some of them, to anyone who would hire him. He liked it, liked hurting people. It was widely suspected by many he'd even killed one of his own brothers when the two of them had each been hired by opposite sides in a gang dispute some years before. He was a bully, a dangerous bully, and Harry hated bullies with a passion.

"Now Fergus, I'm going to ask you again: what can you tell me about the White's and their operation?"

The man was sweating heavily, his eyes wild with fear, as he stared down at Harry and tried to shake his head. "I can't. I can't say nuttin'! They'll kill me!"

Harry sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Fergus, you seem to be forgetting something."

His victim was literally shaking in fear as he hung on the wall. "What? No! I ain't forgettin' nuttin'!"

"Sure you are!" Harry told him as he pressed his fingertip into the middle of the man's upper arm. "They have to find you to kill you. _I_ already have you!"

" _NO!"_ Pulse. Snap/crack. Scream.

Harry looked up at him to see tears running down his cheeks. Figures, he could give it, but he couldn't take it. "I really hope you start telling me what I want to know before I get to your legs Fergus." He said conversationally as he laid his fingertip to the inside of the elbow. "I understand it's very hard to run away with shattered kneecaps."

((((((OOOOO))))))

"Come on, Cissy, only three more!" Emma stood beside her with encouragement as she gripped the handgrips of the weight machine and lowered her hands to chest level, inhaling as instructed as she did so. "Now push and breathe out! Push!" she exhaled heavily as she pushed the bar up again. Then repeated the entire sequence, and again.

Both Harry and Emma had told her she didn't need strength training as such, she only wanted to tone her muscles and increase her stamina, but three reps of fifteen with thirty pounds of weight left her rubber armed and wobbly. Along with all the other exercises they had scheduled for her she was worn out. Emma had promised once she was used to it, she wouldn't even notice the fatigue and aches. She didn't believe that, either.

She sat up on the bench and took the towel the other woman handed her and mopped her face where sweat was running down. Looking across the small but very well-equipped gym she could see Harry doing the same. Standing in only a pair of shorts, socks and trainers he was what Emma called eye candy of any woman's dreams. He wasn't overly muscular but what muscles he had were very well defined, with 6 pack abs.

And she was so fatigued and muscle weary she couldn't bring herself to do anything about it. Crap.

"What do you say we make use of the hot tub today instead of just a shower?" Emma asked innocently from beside her. "Help those muscles out."

She looked up at her in shock. "We have a hot tub?" she asked, her mind flashing back to a yacht in the Mediterranean with warm lazy nights sitting in relaxing sybaritic bliss as multiple jets of water massaged her. Her gaze shifted back to the lone male in the room, eyes narrowing in displeasure. "I was never told we had a hot tub." She said accusingly.

The target of that displeasure froze, realizing he'd made some sort of Faux Pas, but being male and young, not quite knowing what. "Uuuhhh, it slipped my mind?"

She sniffed as she stood up. "Well, you'd better hope it doesn't slip my mind how much you enjoy sex at bedtime." She stated as she followed the brunette out of the room through a door she'd never used before.

She ignored a snicker from that same brunette.

((((((OOOOO))))))

Doctor Stephen Tooey looked up from the paperwork he held as his head nurse and office manager stepped into his office bearing a tea service. "I made you some tea since you're going to be here a while longer, but don't think it means you can stay to all hours working." She remarked as she set the tray down on the corner of his desk and proceeded to pour him a cup.

He just smiled and accepted her remonstration. Agatha Birdwell had been his chief nurse for over thirty years and his office wouldn't have run nearly as well or as efficiently without her. Her expertise in the operating theatre was even greater and though he was married to a wonderful woman who fussed over all his needs he could put up with Agatha mother-henning him when she felt he needed it.

"Thanks, Aggy." He told her as she set the cup down on the tray. "I only plan on being here another hour or so going over the DeNolo case and then I'll head home."

"Ah, that poor girl. You'll be doing a wondrous thing for her, Stephen."

"It's one of the greatest pleasures of my job." He told her. "Now, you go on home and I'll see you tomorrow."

"You just remember what I told you." She said over her shoulder as she went out the door.

He chuckled. "Alright. Good night!"

He turned back to his papers, making a few notes before he put them down on the desk and reached for his keyboard. Logging into the hospital mainframe he worked his way through the mess that was the language of the computer world until he found the patient records and pulled up the one he wanted.

Denise DeNolo, known as Dee Dee, was an eight-year-old girl who had been playing outside the front of her house when she'd gone running towards her father. He'd been edging his sidewalk with a power edger when his daughter had come running up from behind him, tripped, fell and slid across the grass with her hands out in front of her. The first time he knew she was there was when he saw her right-hand slide into the side of the spinning blade. It might have been better if her hand had slid in front of it, then they might at least have been able to reattach the severed thumb, index and middle fingers. As it was, they'd been reduced to the equivalent of ground beef; there was nothing left to reattach.

He went over the examining doctor's notes and comments and then the surgeon's, making notes of the relevant facts he would need. Then he started bringing up pictures, CT scan, MRI and X-Rays, noting the area of damage, what was missing and what was left intact, making note of what nerves and muscles he might be able to make use of in the surgical procedure he was planning and considering what he would have to undo of the previous surgeries in order to do it. Finally, he called up the pictures and such of her left foot that he had ordered.

It was two hours later when he finally leaned back in his chair with a sigh. The wound had been ugly and massive, and the surgeons had done the best they could with what they had. However, that left Dee Dee with only two fingers on her hand to go through life with and no thumb to help her grip. He was certain he could fix that though.

He picked up the teacup and took a sip, then grimaced: cold. He reached up and felt the teapot: also cold. With another sigh he opened the drawer in front of him and reached in, bringing out a slender length of well-polished wood almost a foot long. With a muttered word and a wave of the stick steam began rising from the cup. Taking a sip of now hot tea he returned the stick to the drawer and closed it.

By the time he finished the tea he had shut down his computer, gathered his notes and straightened his desk.

Aggy wouldn't know it had been two hours instead of one.

((((((OOOOO))))))

She dodged right as one of the plastic spheres came at her then banished the one right behind it back at Emma who was gleefully throwing them at her even as she used her other hand to form a shield to protect herself from one of Harry's stinging hexes. She then fired off a spread of five of her own stingers at him from the hand she was using to deflect Emma's plastic missiles. As Emma used the charmed bucket to recall her ammunition laying around the training room, she took the time she had to keep her shield up and fire off more stingers at her magical opponent.

He replied, not with a shotgun blast effect such as she used, but a machine gun effect that smashed into her shield one after another. It shattered on the fourth hit, the fifth one hit her on the arm and with a squeak she went down on her bum, thankfully falling under the remaining spells.

"Enough!" she called out. "That's it. I'm done." With that she dropped back onto the floor, looking up at the ceiling, panting, trying to catch her breath, exhaustion, both magical and physical, creeping into her body as adrenaline from the fight left it.

The other two walked into her line of sight. "You did almost twenty minutes longer this time 'Cis." Harry commented. "You've also improved a lot with your off-hand casting."

"But I still can't do that onetwothreefourfive thing you do." She said. "I can do any number up to five all at once, but I just can't concentrate enough to do it in sequence like that."

He smiled down at her. "Considering you've only been doing wandless casting for a couple of months that's still pretty good and you'll get it eventually."

He suddenly leered at her. "You want to spend some time in the hot tub?"

She moaned. "I'd probably drown. I can probably stand up in the shower if you wash me but the way I feel right now I won't say I'll still be awake by the time you're done."

Tonight's exercise had been to test how her magical core might be expanding with the new exercise regimen she had undertaken as well as to help her practice and refine her wandless casting ability. Harry fired off hex after hex at her while Emma threw the plastic balls simulating another magic user for as long as she was able to last against them. Crude, but effective.

But it left her exhausted. She wasn't kidding when she'd told Harry she might not be awake. Magical exhaustion was as bad as the physical kind she'd found.

"Come on then." Harry reached down to help her up. "Let's get you cleaned up and in bed."

She was right: she didn't stay awake through the shower.

((((((OOOOO))))))

Narcissa whimpered with pleasure as Harry thrust into her. Her legs wrapped around him, she pulled him to her with his next thrust. With her chin tucked into the crook of his shoulder and neck she mewed at the stretching fullness she so enjoyed.

Under her back the soft grass cushioned her against the hammering of Harry's hips as the bright sunlight shone through her eyelids. The eroticism of the experience was increasing the intensity of her feelings and she loved it.

Harry had found her as she'd wandered around the gardens on a beautiful September day. When he'd pulled her into an embrace and given her a passionate kiss, she'd guessed what he had in mind and when the kiss had ended, she'd taken his hand and turned back towards the house, just as eager as he seemed to be.

But he'd stood his ground and smirked at her look of incomprehension as he pulled her in the opposite direction. "What's wrong 'Cissa? Haven't you ever wanted to have sex outside?"

He'd led her out past the edge of the gardens to the grassy meadow beyond, her excitement at the idea rising with each step. She hadn't protested in the least bit; there was no one to see them and it would be a new and novel experience.

It had been a teasing experience this time. Usually Harry liked to bring her to a climax at least once before he took her but this time he'd withheld that as he kissed, licked, touched, sucked, nibbled and bit those places that got her so hot and ready as he undressed her and lay her back in preparation.

With the hot sun beating down on her heated skin she'd been begging and pleading, tugging at his hair in order to get him to give her what she'd wanted before he'd finally entered her. But instead of his usual hard pounding that she so craved and enjoyed, it had been a slow, gentle slide, further prolonging her need. Only as he neared his own peak had she managed to get him to increase the speed and force of his thrusts.

Clutching him tightly to her as she approached her own climax, she opened her eyes to gaze upwards as she thanked the Gods for giving her to this young man. The rapidly growing red, green, yellow, purple and pink spheres directly above them barely registered on her passion addled mind, giving her only a split second to utter a shriek that quickly changed to a piercing scream as the water bombs, filled with ice cold water, landed.

((((((OOOOO))))))

"Emma Louise Granger! You get you muggle arse out here right now!" She screamed, almost before she was in the house. She'd worked up quite a bit of anger as she and Harry had dried and dressed themselves, all passion instantly erased under the freezing deluge, before stalking back to the Manor.

She could've apparated but she wanted time to plan how she was going to destroy the other woman.

"'Cissa!"

"Not now Harry." She snarled. "Granger, you bitch! Where are you?" She yelled again.

"Narcissa!"

"Not now, I said, Harry!" she snapped irritably.

"I'm in the library!" Emma's voice came from down the hall. Narcissa immediately began striding down the hall toward her.

The brunette met them when they got two thirds of the way there, after all she was in no hurry, and Narcissa was practically jogging, and Narcissa laid into her the moment they met.

"You did it again! How could you? You deliberately did it again!"

"Did what?" The obviously confused woman asked.

"You know what!" Narcissa fumed.

Emma looked past her. "Harry, do you know what she's talking about?"

"Uh, we were making whoopee out in the meadow when someone hit us with water balloons." Harry explained in an embarrassed sounding voice, his cheeks reddening.

Emma laughed. "Really?"

He nodded sheepishly. "At a really bad time and they were filled with freezing cold water."

Emma choked out between bouts of laughter. "Who did it?"

"You know who!" Narcissa growled out, her steady glare showing who she thought did it.

Emma practically beamed her smile lit up so brightly. "Me? You think I did it? How?"

Narcissa's brain stopped working.

She hadn't considered that one little word: how. How _could_ she have done it? They'd been nowhere near any structure from which she could have thrown anything; each of the balloons had been huge, at least a gallon and how would she have gotten all five into the air at the same time?

"I tried to tell you 'Cis, she couldn't have done it." Harry said from behind her.

"Let me get this straight." Emma said, addressing the speechless raven tressed woman before her with an amused grin. "You were out in a field that's what, a quarter of a mile away? Someone is close enough to accurately hit you with water balloons, you come back to find me in the library and you think I did it?" She laughed again. "'Cissy go look out a window. Can you even see that field through the gardens? Is there any place to hide out there? Do I look like I just ran a quarter of a mile or could throw a bunch of water balloons at you without being seen?" Shaking her head, she laughed again. "Whoever got you 'Cissy, it wasn't me."

Her mind reeled under the barrage of questions. All the answers were no, but who else could it be? Staring dumbfounded between the two, mouth gaping open, she didn't know what to say but finally regained enough wits to say in a calm voice, "I'm sorry Emma, both for accusing you and calling you names."

Emma smiled back. "That's all right 'Cissy, but you might have Harry check the wards to see how someone might've gotten in."

"I'll do that later." He proclaimed before putting his arm around her shoulders and turning her around. "Come on, 'Cissa, let's go get some tea."

As they started walking down the hall Emma called out. "Harry, have you ever been up on the widow's walk on the roof? The breeze is wonderful, and that view is spectacular! With a good pair of binoculars, I bet it would feel like you could see clear to London! I might ask you later to put a chair and umbrella up there for me. It would be a wonderful place to spend an afternoon reading."

Narcissa spun in Harry's arms just in time to see the grin on the other woman's face as she turned to walk away. She could have seen them in the meadow! But if she'd been up there, there was no way she could have bombed them.

She sighed. A good cup of tea sounded just like what she needed right now. And scones. With butter.

((((((OOOOO))))))

Narcissa sat in the nook sipping a cup of tea, quietly observing Emma, who was reading the morning's Prophet. She knew she had dropped the water balloons on them but for the life of her couldn't think of how she might have done it. Just carrying one was a nightmare, the amorphous mass wanting to ooze around and out of her hands and arms. She knew that for a fact because she'd conjured one up and tried. She was even surprised the thing hadn't exploded in her hands.

It had when she'd tried to throw it. Carrying five? Not without magic and Emma didn't have magic. So how had she done it?

She didn't know but she was sure she had…somehow. The woman was just too clever for her own good.

Getting up to leave, she suddenly smirked as a thought occurred to her. She silently and wandlessly threw a sticking charm at the woman, giving it as much power as she could. Hah! Let her sit there for seven or eight hours. Harry was gone for the day and she would make sure to have a good excuse for not hearing her cries for help.

She was a Black; _nobody_ was going to ruin her fun time with Harry and get away with it!

Thirty minutes later she was in the library gathering material for Harry's lessons on Wizard traditions when she lifted her head at a noise from the hallway, a noise that couldn't be possible: somebody walking. She stared in disbelief as Emma leaned in the doorway and saw her.

"There you are! I've been looking for you. I thought I'd cook dinner tonight. Italian, with garlic bread and salad. Would you prefer chicken parmesan for the entrée or lasagna? I'll have to let you pick the wine though. Dan was the wine snob in the family. I basically know it's red, white or pink. So, what would you like?"

"Lasagna please." She replied automatically, her mouth moving of its own accord. _It's not possible! I_ know _I hit her with that charm! Why isn't she stuck to that chair?_

Emma smiled. "Fine! Usual time at my place then. See you later."

Narcissa sat in frozen disbelief as she watched her leave.

((((((OOOOO))))))

William Acton, Lord Acton of the Noble House of Acton, slowly worked his way up the staircase, the thump of his cane on each bare tread punctuating his every step as he followed the other man upwards. Normally he wouldn't have had anything to do with the boy, he was practically an idiot in his opinion, but Eric Mayweather had come to him this time with a piece of news which, if it was true, could conceivably enhance his fortune a great deal. He knew the boy was only trying to get into his good graces but if he could do what he said he could he could put up with being in his annoying presence for a while. This was why he was making his way up the stairs of a Diagon Alley business building for a meeting with a man young Mayweather was insistent he meet.

At the landing they turned left to face a door with a frosted glass window with the words _**BRASILIA INVESTMENTS**_ painted on it in gold paint. Under that was **Poalo Onzi** also in gold. _Sounds foreign._ He commented to himself.

Young Mayweather opened the door and stepped aside in order to let him enter first.

It was like many other business office reception areas he'd been in: several chairs along one wall for those awaiting an appointment, a couple of bookcases with books, several shelves with tastefully displayed knick knacks, a nice rug on the floor and a desk for the pretty brunette receptionist working with quill and parchment behind it. _A woman working outside the home?_ He thought _. Taking a man's place, a deserving_ Pureblood _man's? Probably a damn mudblood._

She looked up as the two of them entered and smiled. "Mister Mayweather! Good morning."

"Good morning, Denise." The boy replied. "This is Lord Acton and we're here for a 9:00 appointment. Is Paul in?"

"Yes, sir." She said with a nod. "He's expecting you. Please go right in."

Again, young Mayweather opened and held the door for him, letting him into the office to see a man behind a large desk look up and start to stand. He was an average looking person, from his looks to his height, though his dusky skin said he hailed from some place sunnier and warmer than England boasted. Plain brown eyes regarded him from under straight black hair parted in the middle, a style he'd always thought said 'Poofter'. A small scar under his right eye was the only thing that distinguished him from any of hundreds of other ordinary looking people.

He came around the desk with a smile and extended his hand to Mayweather. "Eric! It's good to see you again. May I assume this is Lord Acton?" he asked, turning to face him.

"Paul let me introduce you to Lord William Acton. Lord Acton, Mister Paolo Onzi."

The man extended his hand to him, still smiling. "Lord Acton, a pleasure to meet you."

"Is it Paul or Paolo?" he asked as he shook the proffered hand, noting the man's accent. So, he was a foreigner.

He continued smiling as he answered. "It is actually Paolo but so many people mispronounce it I just go with Paul. It's so much easier. But please, sit!" he gestured at the two chairs in front of the desk as he returned behind it. "I assume from your presence young Eric here has been telling you about Brasilia Investments."

The man was straight to the point at least; good. "He's told me that it's about a dam in South America and the rate of return on any investment at this time is in excess of twenty-five percent, or more. That was enough to get my interest. I would, however, like to hear exactly what is going on and how such returns are possible."

Paul nodded. "Very understandable, Sir." He replied. "What is going on is that the government of Brazil is building a large, a _very_ large, dam for flood control and electricity in one of their districts."

Acton knew what flood control meant but electricity was just so much mumbo-jumbo to him. He had once heard it described as 'lightning in a bottle' to be used by the muggles in some fashion he couldn't fathom, but why they needed so much of it was beyond him. He didn't know and didn't care what the stupid savages did with it.

Onzi continued. "The company with the contract to build the dam was making very good progress with preparing the site for construction when they came upon a complication: in the process of digging away the overburden to get to the bedrock, they discovered gold. As with everything else concerning this project it was a very large concentration; the engineers and geologists hired to investigate the find think it could take as much as fifteen to twenty years to get it all."

"However," He went on as he leaned back in his chair, "there are some very large problems with mining it. First is, the dam is scheduled to be completed in ten years and when it is the new lake will cover the area in two hundred feet of water. The dam will be complete enough in eight years for the lake to begin filling further increasing the difficulty. Second, the country has a new government, one which was elected on a platform of removing the corruption so prevalent in the last one. What that means for the contractor is a government watchdog looking over their shoulder every second of the day, especially when it comes to the money they're giving them to build the dam."

"But there's a way around that, which is why you are here." He guessed, laughing at the idiots who would prefer a lake than the gold that seemed to be available in great quantities. They didn't even seem to realize they could always build the dam later.

Paul smiled at him. "Exactly! While they can not use the government money to mine the gold, the government has agreed that any money they raise separate from that may be used in any way they desire."

 _With probably a hand in the purse as well._ He thought. _Getting rid of corruption in a government? Hah! The two go hand in glove!_ "So how does that explain such a high rate of return?" he asked.

"The company is under a very tight time constraint." Paul answered with a shrug. "They have only half the time they need to get the gold and all of the personnel and equipment they have right now is committed to the dam project. They need to hire, buy or rent everything they need to get the gold and that takes a lot of money. They are willing to give high returns in order to attract a lot of investors now. Once they have what they need the returns will lower of course but that time is still several years away."

 _That makes sense. Frontloading the deal like that would attract a lot of money at the beginning with a reward of high returns but once the immediate need for everything required to do the job is taken care of they wouldn't need to give so much of it back, thereby enriching themselves even more._ He grinned slightly as he considered how he could advance his own cause while making money. _If we kept this to a small circle of people of the right kind of thinking we could make enough in a couple years' time to buy every vote we need to get whatever we want out of the Wizengamot, sideline those of the Light who are to stupid to see what's really happening with all the mudbloods and halfbloods, and put those animals in their place once and for all under the feet of the Purebloods where they belong! Plus, we could achieve everything the Dark Lord had tried to accomplish with few repercussions because everything would be legal!_

"Tell me, Paul. How are your fund-raising efforts going at this time?"

"I have only been operating for a short time, so I only have a few clients right now, but once word gets out, such as young Eric has done today, I expect quite a few more to come to my door."

He nodded in reply. "Well, then, if you let me, I'm sure I can find quite a few people who would be very interested in providing much of the money you require."

Onzi smiled widely. "Wonderful! From that statement may I assume that you yourself will be one of those providing money?"

"I just need to make arrangements with Gringotts, and I can assure you I will indeed be making a substantial contribution." He said. _Plus, Shappelton has wanted that eastern acreage for years and with harvest due to be finished in a couple of weeks I'll have the profits from that as well as the sale money before Halloween. For an investment like this it'll be worth the loss of a bit of land._ He stood up and extended his hand. "Believe me Mister Onzi, this is one collaboration I'm looking forward to."

((((((OOOOO))))))

She stood naked in front of a standing mirror, examining her body. She hated to say it, but maybe Harry and Emma were right about all that exercise. She'd known she'd put on a few pounds here and there over the years, but her daily workouts had really seemed to do something about them, most notably that little bulge that had shown up around her middle lately. It was gone. It hadn't been much to begin with, but she could see it even if Harry didn't care about it. Certainly, there was a potion that could do the same thing, but it was rather hit or miss. It might take away too much or not enough, there was no real knowing how big of a dose you needed.

Likewise, her thighs. They had thickened just a little bit since school but now they looked just as trim and slim as the had the day she had graduated. So too her arms. She hadn't been exercising to put on muscle but with the weight training Emma had her doing she supposed it was inevitable. Oh, not big, bulgy muscles but toned, trim ones that had tightened up the loose skin of her upper arms that hung just a little low when she'd raised them and given her back a nice flat belly.

She turned and admired her reacquired tight buns. They'd been hanging just a little bit as well, but now were back to the tight, firm roundness she'd had years ago.

She smirked wickedly as she had a thought: so many people were going to be _so_ jealous when she made her debut on New Year's!

Maybe there was something to this exercise/torture stuff after all.

She turned back to face the mirror and huffed in exasperation at the one thing that hadn't been affected at all by it, however. Cupping her breasts, she lifted them slightly. She'd never had pert, perky tits as one of her classmates who had had them had repeatedly reminded her throughout her school years. She didn't pass the pencil test Emma had showed her, but she did have one consolation prize from a night when she'd been bewailing the fact she couldn't match the looks of some of the girls she seen on the beaches of France. Harry had just looked at her, said 'maybe not, but when men are confronted with a topless woman their only thought is 'BOOBIES!'' and with that he'd grabbed them and pressed his face between them while pressing them against his cheeks as he'd blown raspberries against her breast bone.

She grinned as she remembered how she'd laughed at his antics, but she'd never again worried about how they looked.

It had helped her stamina as well. She still couldn't match Harry or Emma's miles long runs but she was good for at least two miles now and she and Emma could even talk as they ran. It came in handy with Harry's dance lessons. He'd been good enough for a Yule ball with other teenagers but for the Ministry Ball he needed to be much better and with a more varied repertoire of dances if he wanted to make the impression he was looking for. They spent two hours every evening practicing to the accompaniment of Emma's stereo and its wonderful selection of music and she was barely tired when they finished.

However, she was not looking forward to the approaching cold weather and the resulting use of the indoor treadmills if her friend's description of the long, boring minutes of running and never getting anywhere was to be believed.

With one more look at her newly reshaped and younger looking body she turned to get dressed.

* * *

 **A/N: I would just like to say I have been remiss in thanking all of you who have Followed, Favorited and Reviewed this story. Even with the long wait times between chapters (sorry about that) you continue to prove to me that maybe I have some talent for this after all. The reviews have all been wonderful (I'm not counting chapter 5. Don't ask why, I'm just not.) and I thank everyone who has given one. I know the slow pace of the story is irritating to some people (Where's Daphne? When do you get back to the magical world? When is New Year's coming?) so you'll be happy to know there's one more chapter (maybe two) and then War is Declared. Really, that's what I'm calling the Ministry Ball chapter. No real fighting but Narcissa is going to have so much fun! Daphne will show up not to long after and we'll see old friends and new ones and hopefully you'll like what Harry has planned and the things that happen.**

 **Again, thank you all, don't give up on me and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.**

 **Elsbeth Ravensblood**


	10. Chapter 10: Unexpected Visitors

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron or anything else in JKR's wonderful world. Except for the little pebble just to left of the front doors of Hogwarts. I put that there. I might own that. Maybe. But probably not.

* * *

Chapter 10: Unexpected Visitors

Narcissa and Emma were sitting in the nook, having finished a light lunch of salad, scones and tea, when Harry entered. "You look like you're going somewhere." Narcissa stated, noting his jacket, boots and jeans.

"We're going for a ride." He replied in a stern manner, telling them nonverbally there was no discussion. With a wave of his hand their clothes were transfigured to those more appropriate for the brisk November weather.

Seeing the serious look on his face she had to ask. "What's wrong Harry? What's going on?"

"I've been having the elves keeping an eye on something for the past couple of days and I've decided to go take a firsthand look and I'd like the two of you to come along for your opinions."

"Where are we going, Harry?" Emma asked as she rose from her chair.

"A couple of miles from the house but still on the property." He replied.

With a pop Winky appeared with coats for the two of them, as well as a stocking cap for Emma and earmuffs for Narcissa, her preferred method of keeping her ears warm.

A few minutes later they arrived at the barn to find Dabbit having already saddled the horses. They'd taken several rides over the past couple of months and she had found that wearing trousers made it much easier to ride than wearing robes and having to sit side saddle. They mounted their horses and Harry led the way out of the barn on the stallion.

It was nippy out, with overcast skies and a slight breeze, and she used some wandless casting to apply a warming charm on herself before pointing at Emma and applying one to her as well. The woman gave her a smile of thanks. The two of them took up positions on either side of Harry. "So, what's going on?" she asked.

"We have unexpected guests." He replied. "They came through the wards three days ago and from the looks of it they intend to stay awhile."

"How did they get through the wards?" Emma asked, sounding puzzled. "I thought you had to let people in."

"Around the manor that's true." Narcissa answered for him. "But on an estate of this size those kinds of wards would require far too much power to be practical, so only perimeter wards are used, usually. Alert wards, notice-me-nots and muggle repelling wards are the typical ones."

Emma looked at Harry. "Just how big are your lands, Harry?"

He shrugged. "I'm not really certain. Something like nine or ten square miles, I think."

"And nobody notices a hole that big on maps or roadways?" The brunette stated.

Harry shrugged again. "When the map has been like that for a couple of hundred years why would anybody question it? If they ever re-map the area however we're going to have a lot of explaining to do, though."

"Any idea who they are?" she asked.

"No. They're obviously magical but I don't know where they came from."

"How are you so certain they're magical?" Emma wanted to know. "Couldn't they be non-magical and just, I don't know, stumbled through the wards if they're not meant to stop people?"

Harry barked a short laugh. "Oh, they're magical alright, there's no doubt about that." He said. "You'll see what I mean when you see them."

They rode out into the meadows that surrounded the manor. Once green and seemingly teeming with life, they were now brown and lifeless looking. Trees they were passing were beginning to look skeletal as their leaves fell away from them. This time of year, after the riot of color of fall and before the winter white of snow-covered lands, was not one of Narcissa's favorites. Everything seemed so dark, bleak and dreary it made her shiver even without the cold.

They had passed out of view of the manor, talking of things they saw, of how different things looked now and imagining how they would look with the first snow which surely could not be long in coming, when they topped a gentle rise in the ground to find a much different view on the other side.

The hill they were on curved off to the right, with a copse of trees back from it several hundred yards away. The face of the hill was much farther down the slope than the back they had just come up. They had come up twenty or thirty feet while the other side sloped downward at thirty or forty degrees for eighty or ninety feet before flattening out for several hundred yards before rising again to another, smaller, hill. The small valley thus created ran off into the distance before the far hill flattened out, opening out into another meadow.

But it was what was in the valley below them that caught their attention: people, numbering between fifteen and twenty if she saw them all. They ranged from adults to toddlers, men and women and she was almost moved to believe Emma had been right about them being non-magical: none of them wore robes of any kind. They were all dressed in trousers and shirts, some with vests, dresses for the women and most had some kind of coat or jacket against the cold. She could also see most of the clothing was patched and mended, some more than others. Whoever these people were they certainly seemed to be very poor if their clothing was any indication.

Off to the left, and where the younger children were located, were several carts with a large wheel on either side. Not wagons, but carts because she could see no sign of any kind of harness on any of them. Nor did she see any animals with which to pull them anyway. It looked as if they'd been situated to form a windbreak or shelter.

To the right, however, at the base of the hill was where all the activity was taking place. The strangers had dug into the base of the hill and carved out what looked like an area about twenty feet by twenty feet, with a flat floor and vertical walls around the excavation. The digging hadn't been haphazard, however. They'd dug the dirt out in thin sheets, cutting them into narrow blocks roughly twice as long as they were wide and were placing them around the perimeter of the pit, extending the vertical walls upward. Off to one side she could see blocks with grass laid out in piles, as if waiting to be used later.

Scraped areas on the side of the hill showed where young trees, cut from the copse on top of the hill, had been dragged down from above, trimmed and cut and positioned to form the framework of a rough house.

"What are they doing?" she wondered out loud.

"Building a sod house." Emma said.

She looked at the other woman. "A what?"

Even Harry was looking at her as she explained. "In the mid to late 1800's as the American pioneers moved west across the continent they came to the Great Plains, a vast expanse of land where there were very few trees. To make up for the lack of normal building materials they dug their homes into the ground, using what little wood there was to support a roof of sod. It wasn't the best, but it gave them shelter."

"If there wasn't any wood, what did they use for fires?"

Emma looked at her and grinned. "Dried dung."

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Oh, gross!" She was certainly glad the muggles had gotten past that little habit.

"They've noticed us." Announced Harry, suddenly.

Indeed, they had. The men had left their labors and were forming a line between the two groups as the women had retreated to the carts. The men were gazing up at them, and while they didn't seem hostile, they were certainly wary looking. Interestingly, she saw only two wands among them though both were pointed down. That didn't mean there weren't more, but she would have thought the more wands visible the greater the intimidation factor and she could tell they were trying to be intimidating: several them had axes and makeshift clubs in their hands.

"Shall we go down?" Harry asked, even as he spurred his horse into movement.

They followed him down the slope, and as they neared the bottom, and she wasn't concentrating so hard on keeping herself sliding off the saddle onto her horse's neck, she noticed more people she hadn't seen earlier. Seven or eight children were now visible looking around and over the carts having obviously been hidden among them, and a young couple had stood up on the far side of them. She noticed right away the differences between the two and the rest. They were both tall, he close to seven feet and she only half a head shorter. Where all the strangers she could see were dark haired, his was a coppery red and hers was a sun bleached blonde. Both had much longer hair than the others. They were dressed differently as well. He wore only a vest as far as she could see and the girl, for though they were tall both were obviously only in their teens, wore what looked like a simple pullover. With the temperature as low as it was, they were both clothed very lightly. Also, whoever they were she suspected they weren't related to the others.

They stopped about twenty feet away from the line of men. An older man, the leader if she didn't miss her guess, addressed them in a gruff tone. "Who are you and what's your business?"

Harry looked back at him. "I would think those would be my questions since you are on my lands, digging in my soil, making use of my resources." He leaned forward. "Very rude of you, not asking first."

The man snarled at him. "This is our land now. You're not using it and we need it. You'll not be pushing us off without a fight."

Harry straightened in the saddle again. "You felt the wards, if I want you gone, you'll be gone. As for a fight, if I can't take two wands, I'll eat mine." His voice had gone from almost flippant to a hard sternness at the belligerence of the stranger.

Narcissa started in surprise. Only two wands for all these adults? Who were these people that they didn't all have wands?

The man didn't buckle under Harry's threat however. "We have…"

"Two wands." Harry interrupted him, waggling two fingers at him. "Do you think I didn't feel my own wards?" he asked, exasperation showing at the other man's obstinance. "I've had you under observation almost from the moment you set foot on my lands. I know exactly what you have."

"Then you'll know I have this, wizard!"

Everyone's attention turned to the voice of the young man behind the carts, who now held a bow raised and drawn, pointed at Harry, an arrow on the string. He stepped from behind the carts and she felt her jaw drop as Emma gasped in surprise.

 _Centaurs!_ She could barely believe her eyes. _What the hell are centaurs doing this far from the Forbidden Forest and in the company of humans as well?_ She wondered. That certainly explained why Harry had known these people were magical.

The male was what she thought was called roan, a reddish color only a bit darker than his hair, or rather mane, while the female was a golden color, a palomino. They each had a belt around their human half's waist with several items hanging on them, one of which looked like knife sheaths.

"Runaways." Emma stated with quiet certainty.

Narcissa had no idea how she'd come up with that idea. "What makes you think that?"

Emma grinned. "Look at her belly." She said. "She's pregnant and I'll bet it's straight out of a romance novel."

She did so and could see what Emma was talking about, a swelling around the mid-section of the female's horse half. "How did you come to that conclusion?" she asked.

"Look at what they're wearing. His vest is obviously a rough homespun fabric while hers is a much finer material. My guess? They fell in love, her daddy disapproved, they didn't use protection and she got in the family way and daddy was out for his head. So, like a typical stupid pair of teens in a romance novel in that kind of trouble, they ran. They probably met up with the others on the road somewhere."

"Definitely stupid." Harry said as he slid from his mount. "Stay here."

She saw the men facing them shuffle their feet as he started walking towards them, probably nervous at the thought of what he might be able to do if he thought he could take two grown men in a fight. He didn't even have his wand out!

But he totally ignored them, even as he passed between two of them who backed away from him as he passed on his way to the young centaur stallion. That one didn't seem to know quite what was going on, either, but kept his weapon trained on Harry as he approached. Harry walked right up to him, standing so close to the centaur that he couldn't keep the bow at full extension, letting the string slacken as Harry made no threatening moves.

Harry suddenly raised a hand and beckoned at the horse-man to lean down. He, for his part, gave a querulous look at his companion, who looked as confused as he now did, before leaning forward to hear what Harry had to say.

Harry's fist seemed to come up from the ground before it crashed into the young being's jaw. There were shouts, cries and gasps from the surrounding audience as the centaur's head snapped upwards and he staggered backwards. Narcissa was certain the only reason he stayed standing was because he had four feet to plant, versus the more unsteady two of a human, as his human half swayed from the blow. She was a bit surprised someone that big was affected that much by it, however.

The girl rushed to his side as Harry stood shaking his hand watching them. "Ouch!" Emma said quietly. "That had to hurt." She had to agree.

"Listen to some good advice, _boy_!" Harry growled out suddenly, in an angry tone of voice. "If you _ever_ point a weapon at me again, especially with my family in the line of fire, use it _immediately_ because if you don't, I'm going to put you down, _hard!_ I've had to many people try to hurt, maim or kill me in the past to put up with it anymore." He turned and began walking back. As he once again walked through the line of men, he locked eyes with, and glared at, their leader. " _Any_ weapon!" he said forcefully, making his point about the wands.

Narcissa had to admit, Harry's statement of them being a family certainly warmed her as Emma looked down at him. "Hurt yourself?" she asked with a grin, to quietly to be heard by the others.

He flexed his fingers. "That's why you don't want to hit anyone in the jaw with a closed fist: damn kid must have rocks for a jaw."

Narcissa smiled at the statement. After all, he looked as if he was only a few years older than the centaur himself.

Harry turned back to the others. "Now, why don't you tell me who you are, where you came from, why you're here and why you think I'm just going to let you steal from me." He stood looking at the leader, arms crossed and feet shoulder width apart, looking like a Lord of the Land waiting for an answer. Narcissa felt a sense of pride. She knew Harry was just being himself, but he was using what she had taught him: how to be the Lord of these lands, in charge and to not let others forget it.

Some of whom were even now looking a bit angry at the stealing accusation, and guilty of its truth at the same time. Their leader finally spoke. "I'm Ian Anders and these are my kith and kin." He stated. "We've been traveling for a fortnight now, using what charms we can to hide from the muggles and their damn contraptions as we move north, looking for a new home. We're tired and cold, weary of the travel and when we felt the wards surrounding these lands, we thought we might have found it. If we don't get shelter built soon, we won't survive the winter."

"So you just thought you'd sneak in, dig your hole in the ground, hoped you could find enough food to feed all of you for the winter, then hoped whoever owned the land would let you stay when they found you in the spring. If you hadn't all died that is."

She thought Harry's reply was snarky and somewhat cruel but from the looks of shamed guilt present on many of the interlopers faces, they agreed with his assessment.

Ian Anders drew himself up to his full height. "They're my family!" he exclaimed forcefully. "I'll do whatever it takes to care for them!"

Harry stared at him for a few seconds until "I believe you." He said with a nod, then pulled his wand. The two men with wands were suddenly very alert but Harry turned to the side and began conjuring. This time even Narcissa watched in wonder along with the others as he brought forth a small house complete with two chimneys, one at either end, along with the fire in them if the smoke emerging from them was any indication. Conjuring took far more power to achieve than transfiguration did and to do what he had just done would have exhausted her, but he didn't even look tired.

Helping Emma and then herself down from their horses he turned to Anders. "Well, are you coming in or not?" he asked before opening the door for them. "You two are invited as well." He said a bit louder, obviously to the centaurs before he followed them in.

Once inside she saw that the structure only looked like a house. Inside it was merely one large room with a fireplace at each end. There were plenty of chairs for everyone and mesh screens over the front of the fireplaces to prevent any of the children from getting to the flames and it was warm. Out of the cold and wind it was easy to tell just how much colder it was outside.

As the Anders family came inside Narcissa saw them looking around in what almost amounted to awe. She found this strange as while what Harry had done was unusual in the amount he had done, conjuration wasn't that rare but they seemed to be acting as if they'd never seen it before. Along with only the two wands among the group, she had to wonder why.

Harry sat along the back wall in the middle of the room with her and Emma on either side of him as the two centaurs entered last, the male ducking only slightly to avoid knocking his head on the door frame. Older girls and younger women separated from the adults to herd the children over to the fires where they warmed hands and faces while the adults took seats, arranging them to face Harry. The centaurs moved to the fire with the fewest children nearby but were attentive to Harry as well.

When everyone was inside and seated Harry looked at Anders, who was seated in front of him. "Now, Mister Anders, if you're so concerned about your family would you like to tell me why you're dragging them around the mundane world in the middle of November without food or means of shelter and not having any idea where you're going?"

Anders' face screwed up in what could only be anger. "Do you think I wanted to do all of that?" he asked bitterly. "It was the damn Lord what cast us out! Showed up two hours before sunset, he did, and told us we had till then to get off his lands or the wards would kill us. Said he considered our debt paid and the land we had worked and the homes we had lived in for almost three hundred years had been sold and the new Lord didn't want us, he did." His fury was reflected in the faces of those around him. "Kept our livestock, he did as well, said it helped pay the debt; equipment too. We got out with only what we could throw in the carts and little enough that was; mostly clothes and what food we had. Almost didn't make it. I was last, making sure everyone was ahead of me, when the wards changed. My skin felt on fire, like I was covered in lye it burned so. The stinking bastard would have killed us all and not cared a whit that he had."

Narcissa heard a hiss of a sharp intake of breath from Emma. "Em? What's wrong?"

"Land slaves." She replied tersely, anger evident in her features.

"What?" She looked sharply at Anders, wondering what her friend meant.

"Debt renters, serfs, peons, peasants, slaves, it doesn't matter what you called them it was institutionalized slavery." Emma told her with a glare in her eyes. Narcissa hadn't seen her this angry since the day she'd told of her husband's death. "In the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries the large landowners rented plots of land to small farmers in return for them working their land, but the rents were always much higher than the renters could pay or even earn so they were trapped there. The courts sided with the landowners, making it illegal for the renters to leave until they paid their entire debt but with the small wages for the work they did the renters could never get out of debt. If they tried to run away, they could legally be hunted down and returned, or even thrown in prison. Some landowners had entire towns indebted to them. To make things worse, they owned many of the stores the renters had to use and sold their goods at inflated prices further increasing the debt. I imagine with magic they can't even run. It was an evil practice that lasted until the late 19th and early 20th centuries when reforms, more honest courts and industrialization all combined to make it illegal to continue or reduced the profit from the system until the landowners couldn't afford to keep it going."

Harry looked back to Anders. "Is that what happened?"

The older man nodded. "Aye, the Lady is correct. But when did the Wizengamot make such laws? I've never heard of such a thing. Not that it matters, the Lord would likely have ignored them anyway."

"They didn't." He was informed. "She's talking about the mundane world; the muggles. Emma Granger," he indicated her, "is from that world. She's not magical."

Everyone was suddenly looking at Emma with wide eyes, some muttering about muggles. "But what about the Statute?" someone asked.

"Her daughter was a witch." Harry explained.

"Ah, a mudblood."

Narcissa thought everyone felt the temperature drop in the room as Harry scowled. "I don't like that term." He said in a spine shivering tone of voice.

"I'm sorry, Lord," Anders said before anyone could say anything else, "but it's all we've ever heard them called. What else would we call them?"

"Muggleborn is the most common." Narcissa told them. "First generation, or first gen, or even newborn; all of these are starting to be used." She looked around at the wide looks. "Our world is changing. We must change as well or be bowled over by it."

"Forgive me, Lord." Anders suddenly said. "I mean no disrespect, but who are you that you claim these lands as a Lord but are so young?"

"I'm Harry Potter-Black."

The room was quiet again save for the noises of the young ones. Then, "You killed the Dark Lord."

Harry looked towards the speaker. "Since he killed my parents, a lot of my friends and tried to kill me on numerous occasions, yes, I did."

"Good riddance, I say." A young woman said.

"Sarah!" an older voice said in reprimand.

The younger glared back. "You know he'd have done nothing for us. People like him only help those with money and that wasn't us."

"Be that as it may," Harry stated, "the other woman with me is Lady Narcissa Malfoy nee Black," he gave that time to sink into everyone's heads before saying, "and to get this conversation back on track, how many other people were kicked out when you left?"

"There were seventeen families freed from debt, including our four. So, another thirteen, maybe one hundred or so."

Harry sighed. "We'll have to find them and bring them here." He said.

Anders eyes widened. "Bring them here? Why? So you can do to us what he did?"

Harry stared at the man for a few seconds, clearly upset at the accusation. "Mister Anders, just who was this Lord you were indebted to?"

"Lord Acton," he snarled, "may Morgana take his rotten soul."

((((((OOOOO))))))

Harry stared at the man, trying to keep the anguish he felt from showing on his face. He'd known when he started on his plan for a reformation of the wizarding world people were going to get hurt. Changes that big couldn't avoid hurting people. But never had he thought he would come face to face with the victims of his plan so soon or that their plight would be so devastating. He'd known from his contacts that William Acton had invested in Brasilia Investments, that he'd sold land to raise cash to do it. But he had never dreamed he had such a system in place to provide the manpower he needed to produce the food he sold to the wizarding world's population, nor that he would so callously throw away those people's lives.

He looked at Ian Anders and knew he was responsible for the man's present plight. His and more than a hundred others, from babies to grandparents, all caught up in his machinations, and while he had already decided what to do with this group, he knew he would have to help all the rest of them as well.

 _Oh, Hermione! Does my saving people thing count when it's my fault they need saving in the first place?_

There was no answer to his thoughts.

"Do you just want to bring them here so you can accuse of stealing from you as well?"

Harry heard Ian Anders and scowled as he answered him. "Actually, I rather thought I'd sell you the land."

Once again, the entire room quieted, this time even the children quieting as they sensed the emotions of their parents. An older woman stepped up behind Anders and placed her hands on his shoulders. He reached up with one hand and covered hers as a recognition of her support. He stared back at Harry for over a minute as the tension in the room rose.

Harry met his look and held it as out of the corner of his eye he saw both Narcissa and Emma giving him quizzical looks. They both knew the Potter lands had been inviolate for centuries; none of it had ever been given out of family hands and here he was offering to sell some to complete strangers he only met less than an hour before.

But Harry knew it was the right thing to do. Maybe unknowingly and unwittingly, they were going to help him change their world. Maybe he would tell them. He expected opposition, people were naturally resistant to change after all, but he was committed to what had to be done and if they didn't change now and learn new ways then when they were discovered the shock of that change would much worse. Better to start now and have some years to bring them around and prepare them for what was to come.

Anders finally spoke. He was quiet, subdued, as he did so. "Are you such a cruel man as to dangle a dream before our eyes, to give us hope of ever walking upon the soil beneath our feet and know it is _ours_ and no one else's, to make a life upon it for ourselves and our children, only to dash that dream at our feet? You say you have seen what we have, you know how little that is, you know we have nothing to pay for what you offer, and yet you say what you have said. What game do you play at, Harry Potter-Black that you do such a thing?"

"Who accuses who, now, Ian Anders?" Harry leaned forward in his chair. "Not every valuable can be held in your hand or counted out of a money bag. You have two things I want that I am more than willing to trade portions of my ancestral lands for. The question is, will you be willing to give them to me?"

((((((OOOOO))))))

Narcissa looked at Harry, wondering what he was up to. She had spent long hours talking with Potter portraits over the months, learning the family history and many of its secrets that Harry needed to know and one of those secrets was their reverence for the Potter lands. All of them were proud that none had ever been lost to others for any reason, that always had the Potters had a place to always return to. Now, here was Harry offering to sell parts of those lands to strangers, virtual vagabonds and refugees. He would be thankful the portraits couldn't leave their canvases and walk the halls of Potter Manor else they would tear him to pieces!

At no time in their talks and discussions of his plans had something like this ever come up. Granted, the Anders clan arrival was a totally unexpected occurrence and couldn't have planned for but still, to sell land that had literally been in the family for more a thousand years to complete strangers? And what were the two things he was willing to sell them for? What did they have that was that valuable?

She only hoped he knew what he was doing.

"And what are these two things you say we have that you want? I won't enslave my family to anyone when I know not what I'm offering."

Harry leaned back in his chair. "No enslavement is involved." He replied. "I will give each family ten acres…"

There was a collective gasp around the room, followed by frenzied whispering. Harry looked around at the people whose lives he was upending. "Ten acres, with a house…" more frantic and excited whispers, quickly quelled by a stern look from Anders, "…to do with as you will. Plant wheat, corn, beans, whatever you want. The first thing I want from you is time and the strength of your backs."

"What do you mean? How can we give you time?"

"Each year for ten years when you harvest each family will give me one part in ten of the crop, right off the top. Good crop, bad crop, it doesn't matter, I get one tenth of it."

It was Anders' turn to lean forward. "What makes you think we won't try to cheat you? To intentionally have a poor crop so you get less?"

Harry scowled back at him. "You'd cheat your own family out of a better life just to cheat me?" he asked scornfully. "You said you'd fight me for your family, now you say you'd slight them to cheat me? I said good or bad I get ten percent. With that deal you'd only be hurting your family. What kind of cruel man are you to do such a thing, Ian Anders?"

The man had the grace to look ashamed. "I apologize Lord Potter-Black, for both instances. Sometimes my mouth races ahead of the rest of my head and I shame myself terribly, such as this one. It's a problem I've had to deal with most of my life and yet I still haven't broken the habit. Again, I apologize."

"Well, it's not like I never got into trouble by opening my mouth when I should have kept it shut." Harry gave him a wry grin, some of the tension of the confrontation leaving his face.

"What happens after ten years, Lord?"

Harry shrugged. "I give you the deed and the land is yours."

She knew he had them, she could see it in the hungry looks around the room. These people had never had anything before, it had all belonged to someone else. To have the chance to claim the land they worked as their own was something they had probably never even dreamed of and now to know that in just a few short years it could be a reality. They _wanted_ that.

But Harry wasn't finished. "In addition, for one additional year of payment I will sell each family the equipment to work your land. The land will still be yours after ten, but the payment will continue for each thing you buy, including a mare for each family and a stallion for all of you to use in common as a stud. Another year will get each family a ram and four ewes and another will be for a bull for breeding and a cow per family." He looked around the room. "You don't need to buy anything. If all you want is the land, fine, ten years and we're even. If you only want one or two things, then an extra year or two. It's up to you.

"Also, in order to earn a little money, if you so desire, I will give you a chance to farm some of my other land as well. Out of that you can have ten percent to divide amongst you in any way you want, but it's entirely up to you."

Anders gave him a calculating look. "And what is the second thing you wanted, Lord?"

"I want your children."

There was an explosion of noise as practically everyone in the room rose angrily to their feet. She snapped her head around to stare at him in shock at the declaration and even Emma shouted an indignant " _Harry!_ "

The others were even more vehement. "You would have us enslave our children to you?" Anders almost roared. "Do you think we are so desperate we would sell our kin for a bit of land?" It was evident that even without wands, hands and fists were ready to give a more forceful reply.

Harry never even budged, merely scowled up at the standing patriarch. "Sit. Down." He gritted out between bared teeth, clearly angry himself at being threatened.

Slowly, the angered adults resumed their seats. "Thank you." He said. "I may not have expressed myself in the best of ways but that does not excuse your actions or your physical threats towards me."

The woman by Anders spoke before anyone else could. "Lord Potter-Black, please forgive us, but in the past such demands have been made upon some of the families of Lord Acton's properties, for whatever reasons. Some of those children were never seen again."

Narcissa stared at the woman in shock, not wanting to believe that even someone like William Acton could act in such a way against other purebloods, no, not just purebloods, against _anyone_ like that. More and more she saw that Harry's reasons for changing the wizarding world was not only required, but a necessity, if things like this were still being practiced.

"Then I genuinely apologize for my wording." His obvious sincerity seemed to help calm everyone. "What I meant was I want to sponsor and pay the tuitions of any of your children of the appropriate ages to be schooled at Hogwarts."

There was a collective gasp of indrawn breath around the room and she heard a few repeats of the name in reverent, whispered tones. Given the signs of their poverty she imagined it had been a fairly long time since any of their families had attended the school, or any school at all knowing Acton and his ways.

"In addition, I will pay for wands, books, school supplies, uniforms and robes for each of them as well as provide funds to them for things they may need to buy until such time as you yourselves are able to do so." He looked around the room, meeting each adult's eyes. "In addition, I'll pay for tutors for the older school age children to get them up to an appropriate school level so they may attend as well. I will also pay for a wand for anyone who wants one."

The frantic whisperings were too soft to understand but she could tell many of them were excited about the prospects of the children going to Hogwarts and even more so about the idea of the wands.

"Why would you do this?" Anders demanded. "What's in it for you?"

Harry looked at him. "You said you just spent two weeks in the non-magical world. What did you think about them?"

She saw the looks in their eyes as she looked around the room: at the very least they were upset and nervous at what they'd seen; at the extreme they were frightened. "They are nothing like what we have always been told about them." He said cautiously. "Their numbers are enormous, and their buildings are huge; they have flying machines, their horseless carriages range in size from the size of one of our wagons to the length of a house and the speed at which they move is unbelievable. There were times I feared for our very lives."

Narcissa decided to speak up. "Some months ago, I spent a month in that world." She said. She saw eyes widen in surprise. She could understand their surprise: she, a child of the Blacks, the purist of Purebloods, had spent time in the Muggle world? Unbelievable! "I rode in those machines, I walked in some of those buildings. The marvels I saw astounded and frightened me. They control the power of electricity, bottled lightning if you will, and they can do so many different things with it. They can use it to light those buildings brighter than any Lumos charm, to talk to anyone in the world while sitting comfortably in a chair, to broadcast moving pictures around the world of anything they want, to cook or freeze food; the things they can do with it are nearly endless. They can do many things we can without magic. I spent the entire month without even having my wand, and I never missed it."

The crowd was looking incredulous. "But, they're stupid savages!" one young woman said in a timid voice.

"Were you told that, or was that what you saw?" Emma asked. "Before you were forced out of your homes, how many of you had even seen a non-magical person?" Nobody made any indication that they had.

"That's what I get out it, Mister Anders." Said Harry. "Children growing up knowledgeable about both worlds, because I want to send the younger ones to muggle schools to learn about that world firsthand."

That brought more excited, and worried, sounds from the adults. "Muggle school?" Anders wondered worriedly. "But what about the Statute?"

"Mrs. Granger can show you many of the things we've talked about," Harry explained, "teach the kids how to use them and prepare them for it." He turned solemn as he leaned forward once again. "Things are changing, Mr. Anders. The non-magicals have ways to find us, to see through our wards and protections. They can do this accidentally and not even realize what they've done. I grew up in that world and it's my personal belief the Statute will not survive another ten years, fifteen at the very most. We must be ready to meet them when it falls because if we're not our way of life will be destroyed. Not on purpose, but simply by being so overwhelmed by the muggles and their ways that we can't withstand them. I've discussed nothing about this with anyone but these two ladies, but I intend to change our world, to get us ready for when the Statute falls, to be ready to meet them as equals. That now includes changing the laws to change the way you were forced to live so that anyone in those same circumstances can live as free men and women. But I'm going to need help and teaching the children about them, letting them experience firsthand that world so they'll know how to handle it, will be a start. Will you help me?"

Narcissa could see the hesitation in their eyes, the fear of what they'd heard, of the unknown. "Mister Anders, I used to think as you do. I am a Black by birth, one of the highest of our world, and I couldn't believe the muggles could ever harm or hinder us in any way, that they were backwards barbarians easily cowed and intimidated, unable to defend themselves against our magic. But I have flown higher and faster than any broom ever could, and I have ridden a train under the English Channel, both in complete safety and comfort. I have seen ships capable of holding thousands of people and cities you would be hard pressed to walk across in a day. I have watched sporting events from half a world away and ridden in an automobile so quiet and comfortable you'd believe you were sitting in an armchair at home."

Her voice turned harder, more somber. "And I have read their histories, Mister Anders. Sixty years ago, they finished a war that killed untold millions of people, with weapons and machines we would have no defense against. I have seen some of those weapons. I have no idea how I could have stopped them and those are from sixty years ago. They have vastly improved them since that time. They have weapons that can destroy entire cities in seconds. I have read articles written by the muggles themselves stating if they ever use those weapons, they'll destroy the world. Even if they don't target us, they'll still kill us with them. We need to know them, know what they can do, what they have. We need to understand them and the things they do. They have so much knowledge of things in the world around us that we don't that they are leaving us behind. They have had people walk on the moon, sent their machines to other planets, to the moons of those planets, simply to gather knowledge and better understand what they see. They study _everything_ simply to know and to use that knowledge to improve their lives. I read the schoolbooks of Mrs. Granger's daughter before she went to Hogwarts and I was dismayed that a ten-year-old knew more about the world around me than I did. That is why your children need to go to muggle school, to learn what we can't teach them because if they don't, _we_ will become the ignorant savages, the barbarians, and when they find us, and I am as convinced as Harry is that they will and probably sooner than later, we won't be able to survive as a society. We have to give our children at least the chance of being able to live among them, to understand them and their ways, and in doing so give us the help we need to be able to."

She finally finished her impassioned plea, actually surprised by how passionate she'd been and looked around the room. She'd seen their faces, the shock, incredulity and horror at various times in her speech at what she had said, and now saw doubt and fear, and perhaps a little hope and determination in their faces.

Ian Anders looked around him at his family for a moment before he turned back to Harry. "Lord, what you've said today will take time to think about. May we have a few minutes to discuss it?"

((((((OOOOO))))))

Harry looked back at the older man, fully understanding his hesitation. "Certainly. Take all the time you need and to give you even more if you need it, I'm offering to let you all stay in my home for the rest of the winter regardless of what you decide. I can tell you my plans if you accept my offer and you'll at least have better living conditions than a cold, damp hole in the ground."

He saw their surprised looks at the offer, after all he doubted Lord Acton, or any other lord would invite people of their status to live in their home. He stood up and left them to their discussion, moving towards the other two people involved in all of this. Stepping over to the two centaurs, who had stayed in a corner of the room, he said, "I am aware of your peoples beliefs in non-ownership of the land, but you are welcome in my home as well, or if that is not favorable I have a large barn you may use. My horses are kept there but it's large, clean, and much warmer than outside and we can make any accommodations to make it more comfortable. Regardless, you are more than welcome to roam my lands at your pleasure. I would just ask you to stay within the wards. It's safer for you and I would prefer to not push the discovery of the magical world and the breaking of the Statute any sooner than is absolutely necessary."

The two looked at him in surprise. "You would make this offer after what has happened between us?"

Harry smiled thinly. "In my experience I have learned that if you survive your mistakes," he replied, "use the experience gained to not make that particular one again. You're still standing so I would think you learned something. If not, then stupidity has a way of making you regret it."

The centaur looked at him for a moment, then said, "Sage words I will remember." He placed his hand over his heart and bowed. "I am Dorn, and this is my mate, Lya." The female smiled and nodded.

"I am Harry Potter." He answered. "If I may ask, how is it the two of you are so far south of the Forbidden Forrest and your herd?"

The two of them gave each other a quick, confused glance before he answered. "We came from the south until we met Ian Anders group and agreed to aid each other. We had merely sought someplace to establish ourselves, but now you tell us this. Is there really another herd? Where? How far?"

Harry was stunned. A second, unknown herd of centaurs? How was that even possible with the size of the non-magical population and especially in the more populous south? He sighed. Well, maybe that situation could play into his plans later.

((((((OOOOO))))))

Narcissa stepped up beside Emma, who'd moved away from the refugees to give them some privacy. "What do you think about what Harry is doing, Em?"

"Well, it certainly seems he's used his three days to think about it." The brunette replied.

"But the children? Asking that their schooling be a part of the payment for the land? He's as much as giving them the land for what that will cost him to pay for all of the tuition and supplies."

Emma didn't even seem concerned. "That part is the easiest to understand." She told her friend. "Any smart revolutionary knows it's the next generation that you need to really get a hold of. Give them the advantages of your revolution, show them how good it can be. Adults are already set in their ways, even if they're willing to change them, but the kids are more impressionable, more willing to believe what they grow up with." She stepped closer and lowered her voice a bit as some of the others rearranged themselves as they discussed Harry's terms. "If Harry does what he says he will, and we both know he will, he'll gain the adults' trust and support but the kids will look at him as the person who shaped their world into what it is and when they grow up they'll defend him, just as much as their parents revile Lord Acton. They'll be the ones who really change your world." She stared hard into Narcissa's eyes. "Isn't the price of that worth more than the cost of paying for their schooling?"

Turning her gaze to the talking adults in the room, Narcissa pondered what Emma had said.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the long wait for this chapter but my flighty little muse decided to go on a world tour, leaving me with a new Luna Lovegood story,** _ **Pay Attention in Class.**_ **Don't let the title put you off, it's a bit dark with a major character death. She also left me with an outline for another chapter to** _ **When did the Ice Queen get so flirty?**_ **and a rough idea for a third.** _ **To Touch the Stars**_ **and** _ **The Fourth Unforgivable**_ **also have pretty solid outlines for another chapter each, though I have no idea where the latter may go at this time. Then, to make up for all the lost time on** _ **House**_ **, she dropped the next chapter pretty much full blown into my head, which I've been writing even as I edit and re-edit this one. It explains a lot of what is going on in this one and pretty much seals Narcissa's determination to not only get revenge on certain people but to whole heartedly support Harry's mission to change their world. Then I promise it's New Years! Other than** _ **House**_ **I don't know when I'll get the others done but I hope you understand I want to match the quality of them and meet the high expectations of those of you who have reviewed, favorited and followed them. Thank you for your continued support and patience. ER**


	11. Chapter 11: A Little History

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron or anything else in JKR's wonderful world. Except for the little pebble just to … Wait! Where's my pebble? What happened to my rock? _Who took my rock_? _**SOMEBODY STOLE MY ROCK!**_

 **A/N: to those reviewers who are upset, disgusted or just pissed off about how Harry gave away so much for so little to the Anders families, I have this to say: Harry is thinking long term. Money means nothing to him except as a way to achieve his goals. What he wanted was the children. Read the last section of the last chapter when Emma explains to Narcissa why he feels he got much more value for the land he was giving up than what the land is worth. He wants them educated to want much more from their lives than what is currently available; to see his vision of the way the magical world should be.**

 **As for just renting them the land? To them 'rent' is a four-letter word of the worst kind. Their families have just escaped almost three hundred years of de facto slavery because of rent. Harry knew that to even mention it would probably send them running and he needs them for his long-range plans. To him, their attempts to steal the land, to fight for it if need be, was an act of desperation. Hungry, cold, lost in a world they had very little knowledge of, he knew people who had to earn something would appreciate it more than something they were just given. In his thinking he was respecting their dignity by offering them a hand up, not a handout.**

* * *

Chapter 11: A Little History

He pressed his face against the glass, hands to either side of his head, as he gazed at where he wanted to go. He couldn't get through, though, but sometimes when he really wanted to do something, something happened, and he really, _really,_ wanted to go there and…

 _Click!...Click!_

He giggled/laughed as the door swung open and he ran through it, out across the flat space to the big hole in the ground, a hole that was filled almost the to the rim. Dropping to his knees he leaned over, stretching out his hand to touch…

He laughed as he suddenly floated upwards, like a bloon, until he faced someone not his mum.

"Just what do you think you're doing, you little sprog?" Narcissa asked as she levitated the child.

The boy twisted in the completely boneless way only small toddlers and cats could do as he pointed back down towards the pool. "Wata!" he cried with another giggle, smiling widely.

"Yes, water, and you shouldn't be anywhere near it." She scolded gently with a smile as she moved the child into reach. She wasn't worried about him freezing outside unless he got outside the permanent warming charms on the patio area into the foot-deep snow that had fallen in the last day and a half, but drowning was another concern altogether. "Let's get you back to your mum."

"Mum! Mum! Mum! Mummmmm…!" he cried happily, bouncing on her hip before stuffing his fist into his mouth and chewing on it.

She turned back to the entrance door to the spa area and through the gym on her way to the west wing. In the two weeks since the Anders clan had arrived, she'd watched as the previously poverty-stricken families had gone from living with the barest of necessities to the heights of wealth, as Harry had put them up in the west wing of his home until their own homes could be built. Each family had gotten an apartment which had turned out to be bigger than the houses they'd lost, with bedrooms for everyone except the largest families who doubled or tripled up the children in one or two bedrooms and still had one for the parents. This was no hardship as they were used to sharing beds with more anyways. She'd been surprised to learn that family sizes of ten to twelve were not uncommon, something almost unheard of in present day magical Britain excepting the Weasleys.

Meals were shared in the main banquet room, or if they preferred families could ask for the ingredients and prepare their own food in their apartment in the small kitchenettes. Most, however, chose the banquet area. The choice of beef, ham or fish, every day, as well as all the other dishes, was far beyond their normal diets and were profusely thankful for. When Ian Anders had protested that Harry fed them far too well, Harry had brushed it off and said they were guests in his home and more than welcome to share of his bounty while they were there.

The Potter elves were in House Elf heaven. With the growing number of guests, the cleaning, cooking, laundry and babysitting chores kept them wonderfully busy for the first time in years. Winky especially was ecstatic: she had babies to help care for!

The families were a bit unnerved by them, however. They knew about house elves, but they'd never had the opportunity to ask any for help. The enthusiasm with which the small beings threw themselves into their work left the humans unsure as to what they were supposed to do with their copious amounts of suddenly free time, a problem they'd never had before in their life as farmers where there was always something to be done.

Harry helped solve part of that problem by starting classes. Emma introduced them to the wonders of the mundane world and explained what things were and how they worked, talking of what that world was doing and had done. The little ones were started on mundane school subjects in preparation for their introduction into the institution of the British school system while the older children began studying the subjects they would need at Hogwarts with Narcissa responsible for teaching the theory as best she could as well as the practical applications. Harry helped as he could, and stated tutors would later be brought in.

He also opened a sewing room he'd known about, filled with needles and thread, yarn and fabric, all under a stasis charm and thus preserved for who knew how many years. Sewing, knitting, crocheting and embroidery were all taken up and patched and threadbare clothes were soon being replaced by new trousers, shirts, skirts, dresses, scarves and kerchiefs.

Narcissa also solved the mystery of paucity of wands among the large number of magical people: every single wand they had was a legacy wand from before their families were trapped in the swirling whirlpool of debt that had befallen them. They were passed down from those most able to use them to the next, one after another. Sometimes there were weak wizards or witches that held them, sometimes strong, but they had no choice: they hadn't the money to buy new ones even if they could have left Lord Acton's lands to get them. Losing or breaking one was a disaster to the family.

Likewise, spells were passed down, usually the most useful ones, though some of the others were written down and looked up when needed. When shown schoolbooks of charms, transfiguration and defense spells, she saw grown adults curse as well as cry at the loss of knowledge over the years. So too, with runes. Potions, with their many uses and availability of common ingredients, especially the medicinal ones, fared better, knowledge of brewing and the recipes being passed down in far greater numbers.

Harry and some of the older men were keeping busy tracking down, finding and retrieving the other families that had been displaced. Harry had considered the Patronus charm but none of those they were seeking had likely never even heard of it, much less knew how to cast it, that even if he'd sent one and it had found who they were seeking, there was still no way to know where they were. Therefore, it was a case of using the point-me charm, taking a bearing with a compass and a map, then apparating to a new spot and doing it again, thus triangulating a rough position. Doing it in areas with a high density of mundanes where they had to be careful not to be seen made it a long, tedious endeavor.

They had found nine of those families, hungry, cold and desperate, the house elves bringing them and their belongings back to the manor, to be put up in their own quarters. There were seventy-eight of them now and to make room several of the younger couples had been given rooms in the family wing.

Of the remaining four families there was no sign. Harry was still looking but they seemed to have vanished. One theory put forwards as to why was perhaps they had gotten under someone else's wards. None of them knew if that was the case but hope was high.

While not looking for the missing ones, Harry and the elder ones were going over plans for where the lands Harry was selling them would be and what the houses would be like. The newly rescued ones were as excited about Harry's offer as the Anders clan had been and all were astounded at the size of the new homes. Unlike the traditional renters crofts they'd been forced to leave behind, tiny and cramped, these would be full sized houses with three bedrooms, living rooms, kitchens, family and dining rooms. With runic arrays for hot and cold running water, heating and cooling and other amenities the homes would be far better than what they'd left behind.

As for the two centaurs, they'd opted for the barn as their living quarters. Being inside the house had been to claustrophobic for them. The spaciousness and easy access to the outside had been much more to their liking and the simple straw bedding more comfortable to them than the carpeted floors of the manor. They sometimes ate with the others but with Harry's permission Dorn hunted deer and rabbits for food, getting fruits and vegetables from the house, and tanning the hides and using other parts of the animals for other necessities.

Narcissa smiled at the thought that Emma had been almost entirely right about the situation of the two centaurs. Their fathers had been in a feud for years and both had denied them when they had asked to be allowed to marry. When they had discovered Lya's pregnancy they had gathered their possessions and fled the herd.

As she entered the west wing with the boy on her hip, she considered how all of this would help or hinder Harry's plans. They had accepted his request to stay on the grounds till after New Year's and simply answered where would they go? None of them had ever been off Acton lands and names like Diagon, Hogsmeade, Hogwarts and Knockturn were simply that: names. They didn't know how to get there so why try?

She did smile at the memory of the portraits when Harry had told them what was going on: the noise level rivaled a mandrake's scream for intensity and sheer pounding of the eardrums. It wasn't about the number of strangers taking up residence in the house, the Potter's had always been about hospitality and the displaced families story more than awakened their giving natures; it had been about the selling of the land, exactly as she had expected. Some, like Dorea, having married into the family, merely sat back and smiled, waiting, while the rest had yelled and screamed imprecations, everything but calling him a Malfoy.

Harry had simply pulled up a chair, sat down and waited them out. It had taken awhile, portraits didn't need to stop to take a breather after all, but finally they'd quit, realizing he wasn't heeding them at all. He'd then told them in a quite reasonable and calm manner why he was doing what he was doing and further reminded them _he_ was Lord Potter now and if they didn't like it they could see how they liked spending a couple of centuries in the attic.

That ended that argument. His ancestors hadn't liked it but Dorea pointed out he was obviously more than willing to carry out his threat.

Her train of thought was suddenly broken as Elizabeth Anders, Ian's wife, stepped into the hallway. "Ellie!" she called, attracting the woman's attention.

"Nan! Nan! Nan!" the boy immediately started calling happily and leaning towards her, arms outstretched.

The older woman turned towards them, her face lighting up in a smile. "There you are, you little prat!" she exclaimed, taking the youngster from Narcissa's hands. "Where have you been?" she asked of the boy while looking at Narcissa.

"Out by the pool again." She explained with a smile. "And his accidental magic isn't so accidental, I think. It took him less than three seconds to unlock the outside door."

The other woman gave a sigh, with what Narcissa could only think was a proud smile. "Yes, this one was always good at getting into or out of things he wasn't supposed to. Always fascinated by water, as well." She looked back at Narcissa. "Thank you for bringing him back, Lady Malfoy."

She sighed with frustration. "Elizabeth," she said somewhat formally, "I've told you several times you don't have to call me that."

The other woman cocked an eyebrow at her. "But you are, aren't you?"

"To other people and for other reasons, yes, but I consider you my friend and my friends don't have to address me like that." That was no lie. Since they had taken up residence in the manor, she had gotten quite friendly with the Anders matriarch. She was stern and commanded the family quite easily but was very loving and quite caring of the children, something Narcissa had lacked from her own mother. She also got along quite well with Emma. Narcissa thought that was because for all intents and purposes without wands she and most of the others were muggles. Practically everything they did was the muggle way, by hand. Among them they had only nine wands and only the simplest of spells that were used in everyday life. Many had been lost through lack of use and not writing them down. It seemed literacy had not been a virtue valued by the Acton lords among their chattel. For that reason, reading and writing lessons had taken a high priority for the school age children.

"It's not respectful to address you otherwise."

She looked at the other woman for a few moments, feeling thankful for her concern, but a little guilty about it as well. "Ellie," she stated, taking a great chance on what she was about to say, "I can look back at my life and honestly say I was a lazy, indolent parasite on society, looking down my nose at anyone I considered lesser than me simply because of my name and money. Now, my husband is in prison for the rest of his life and the family fortune confiscated for good reason for crimes committed and only the testimony of Lord Potter-Black prevented me from spending the rest of mine in the cell beside him. My own son abandoned me, and I willingly became a five Knut whore in Knockturn Alley in order to survive because all my so-called friends slammed their doors in my face when I begged sanctuary. In so doing I became an adulteress many times over even if my husband deserves it, and he does, I'll not deny that. I was rescued from that life by Lord Potter-Black and became his willing mistress, once again becoming an adulteress, and in a few short weeks I will flaunt that fact in the faces of those who did me wrong. I am a vindictive bitch who fully intends to humiliate and grind their faces into that humiliation every single chance I get for a very long time."

"Under the circumstances I can make the case I don't deserve the respect of someone like you who has worked hard her entire life to have a loving husband and family despite the conditions of that life. I don't think a little disrespect of using my name instead of my title is going to bother me in the slightest."

"You don't act like that now."

"Becoming one of those 'lesser' people and having people look down upon you like I had done previously was a huge lesson on how wrong my life had been. Harry and Emma have also helped me immensely, through friendship, understanding and forgiveness. I find I don't want to disappoint either of them with actions they may not approve of."

Ellie gazed at her for several long seconds, as if judging her, before she reached to the neck of her dress and pulled out a pendant on a leather cord. "What do you think of that?" she asked.

Narcissa leaned forward to look. She could tell it was old, and cheap, but the cloisonné Celtic cross with its red and blue infills, and the large purple semi-precious stone in the center was still a beautiful piece. She said so.

"It bought my virginity."

The statement was said matter-of-factly, as if it had been said many times before and she stared at the gray-haired woman in shock.

"I was just sixteen, on my birthday as a matter of fact, when I offered up my maidenhead for that." Ellie explained with a slight smirk at Narcissa's expression. "It was to Lord Acton, though he was only the Heir at the time." Her face sobered as she went on. "You have to understand, when you are poor, when being a five Knut whore is rich by comparison, having something you can sell again and again for a single coin or a pretty such as this" she raised the pendant, "to trade or barter, means you have another potato, or a bit more flour, to feed your children." She gazed at the pendant. "I married Ian five days later. He knew about this." Her eyes came back to Narcissa's. "None of our men expect to find a virgin in their wedding bed, but we are honest with them and they know why. We are not cheating on them but better an adulteress than the hungry cries of our children."

A look of sadness passed over her face. "It shames me to tell you we teach our daughters how to entice the men of the manor house, those who live there, those they pay and those they entertain, how to flirt and how to offer themselves for pay. Sometimes that will be the only dowry they take to their marriage."

She looked at the pendant one last time before returning it to its hiding place. "I've been very fortunate that our hardships have never been so hard I needed to trade or sell it. I've never seen ten sickles together at one time, but we always had enough to put food on the table and clothing on our backs. Hard work, good crops, no diseases or accidents with our animals and healthy children, my little contributions from being on my back or on my knees even let us have a few luxuries now and then: a little sugar, new shoes as a wedding gift, cloth for a new dress or shirt. Never enough to buy us out of poverty but we were richer than most."

Narcissa was appalled at what she heard. To have to _teach_ your daughters how to be a whore to survive? "What about the men? Didn't they mind?"

Ellie chuckled. "They're men, Lady, of course they mind! But as long as she doesn't hide it, as long as she gets something in return for her family, they look the other way. It's the way of things. But let her hide it, hoard it for herself, then what a beating will she get and the rest of us scorn and shun her when she is found out."

"But if she's forced, or he won't pay, what can you do?"

Ellie looked scandalized. "Oh! The Lord would never permit that! Oh, no! To expensive would be the results of that! Destroyed equipment, lost animals, ruined crops. He'd turn the culprit over to us to see to before he let that happen. He knows the way of it: payment for a service and peace for all."

She adjusted the toddler in her arms as he'd gone to sleep with his head on her shoulder before looking back to Narcissa. "Now do you see, Lady Malfoy? You call yourself a whore, I see someone trying to survive in any way you can, using what you have. Adulteress? Pffft! Your man has failed you and if it's a choice of being a living adulteress and a chaste but dead body I know what I would take. Mistress? You have yourself a good man there, Lady, an honorable one who has picked you and only you…"

That statement sparked a thought in her mind. "Wait! Wait, you mean that's why all the girls and young women are making eyes at Harry?" Among other things: _they taught their daughters to_ entice _men!_

Ellie's lip curled up in a leer and an eyebrow cocked upward again, as if it was obvious. "A young Lord, handsome, rich and unmarried? What do you expect?"

She giggled. "Oh, Merlin!" Almost from the minute they'd gotten settled in it seemed as if the unmarried females had begun making plays for Harry, offering to help with anything he was doing, getting close, finding reasons to bend over in front of him with rather advantageous views, even straight out offering a good time. Emma was laughing herself sick at some of his expressions as he recounted some of the encounters. She shook her head with a laugh. The poor boy was almost clueless when it came to the female half of the human race. Emma had told her some of the stories her daughter had told her about while the two of them were in school and she suddenly realized why he hadn't had any trouble propositioning her: it was the business she'd been in at the time and he was making a business proposition. They both knew what the other wanted and an agreement had been worked out.

She got control of her giggling and said, "You might as well tell them to stop trying, it's not going to work." At Ellie's questioning look she went on. "There are several reasons: Harry's upbringing was…not the best. He has a very hard time understanding things like that. Also, he is rather put off by people who look at him for what he is and what he has instead of who he is. If they don't try to get to know him, they'll never have a chance. Finally, he had a school sweetheart he practically grew up with from friend to girlfriend to lover and he was madly in love with her. She was killed in the war and he's never gotten over her. I sleep with him but it's just sex and fun; sometimes all I do is hold him through his nightmares. If your girls are going to have any chance at all with him it's going to be because he gets to know them and feels something for them, not because they're offering themselves to him."

Ellie nodded in understanding. "I had wondered about his reactions or if it might be because he liked men," Narcissa snorted at that idea, "so I'll spread the word. There will be a lot of disappointed young women, I know that."

Narcissa grinned. She could well imagine.

"But if you believe prostituting yourself for survival somehow diminishes you, makes you unworthy of respect, we do not feel that way." Ellie went on. "It is a way of life for us, one we will gladly give up now that we will have the means thanks to Lord Potter-Black, but still a way of life and you will find no reproach nor condemnation from us. As for cheating on your husband, he cheated on you far sooner than you did on him."

Her eyes widened in shocked surprise, considering the implications. "You said Lord Acton…entertained some men."

Ellie nodded. "He was always trying to better himself among the Lords, the nobles. I personally know of several times when he offered some of our women, and girls, to Lord Lucius Malfoy." Her face showed angry remembrance and Narcissa wasn't certain she wanted to hear anymore. But she listened. "After the first, we all feared we would be chosen next. What he did to them was not what anyone would call pleasurable, though it was said he was satisfied. Some still bear his scars. The last was one of those who never returned." The look of anger intensified. "Acton offered her mother one galleon, a huge sum to us. She threw it back in his face and we all stood against him. Never again did he try to buy status with our bodies."

She took a moment to calm herself. "If you hold any loyalty to your husband, you can drop it now because he never had any for you." She shrugged. "As for being a bitch, what woman isn't at times? Somebody has to get the men moving and a good foot in the arse can get the lazy working. You just never had anyone give you one."

Narcissa smiled at that. Maybe it would have been a good idea if somebody had given her a good swift kick.

"No, Lady," the older woman said with a shake of her head, "you have survived, made yourself better and are helping the Lord Potter-Black to make our world better. You have earned your title and I shall address you by it."

She felt a little self-conscious at the praise as she replied. "Thank you, Ellie, that means a lot to me." She suddenly had an idea. "But there is something I would like you to do for me." She grinned slyly. "It concerns Emma…"

((((((OOOOO))))))

Walking back to the part of the house where she knew Harry to be, Narcissa felt a simmering rage at one Lord William Acton and at least two others of his ilk. It was bad enough he treated Muggleborn and Half-bloods as below him but to not only treat Purebloods that way, as well as slaves, was the greatest hypocrisy she could think of. To use them as if they were his property, his possessions, towards his own betterment laid bare the worst that was wrong with their world. She knew she herself had prejudices towards blood status, but never at her worst would she treat anyone like that. She may have disdained Muggleborn, disparaged Muggles, but the idea of outright slavery of any magical person, especially of Purebloods, and Ian Anders and his like were definitely Purebloods, was repugnant.

According to Ellie there were close to two hundred more people indebted to Acton and she knew of two other Lords with debt renters of lesser numbers who adjoined to his lands. Narcissa herself knew of several other Lords whose incomes came from crops of one sort or another or livestock for sale in the Magical world. If all of them used the same system of rent debtors, then there could conceivably be several thousand people trapped in that life.

For the first time in her life Narcissa felt guilt and remorse at being a Pureblood.

Which was why she was on her way to demand from Harry that he put the issue on his list of changes needing done.

((((((OOOOO))))))

She was sitting in the breakfast nook two days later and enjoying some tea and reading the Prophet when Emma entered, sat down across from her, crossed her arms…and glared.

As she hadn't said anything to her she ignored her for several minutes as she read and sipped her tea. Finally, however, she couldn't do that any longer. "Something you wished to talk about, Em?" she asked as she set her cup down.

"Really?" the other woman asked crossly. " _Madam_ Granger?"

Narcissa was glad she'd begun working on her occlumency again. Not only did it help with the screams of a young woman she heard in the back of her mind on occasion, but it kept a huge grin of triumph from bursting loose on her face at the other's obvious annoyance.

The previous week she'd been in bed with Harry, having a very satisfying sexual experience called 'cowgirl' style, which neither Lucius nor any other pureblood male she was aware of would even contemplate let alone explore as it would endanger the belief they had that all females were below them in all ways and must never have any sort of dominant role whatsoever, especially in bed. She was delighting in how she could control the pace, prolong the sensation and thoroughly enjoy the entire experience as Harry suckled and played with her hanging breasts, when suddenly, from the foot of the bed had come a horrendously loud, blaring noise fit to frighten Riddle in whatever fiery Hell he found himself.

With a startled shriek she sprang forward, hitting her head on the headboard before falling back and landing on Harry, accidentally kicking him in the groin with her knee, causing him to buck up in pain and throwing her off to his side. She'd shrieked again as her knee slid off the edge of the bed and she slid off right behind it. With a desperate grab she pulled Harry off as well where he landed on top of her, his groin once again coming down on her bent, upraised knee as their foreheads came together with a woody sounding ' _clunk_ '.

After the two of them lay there for a minute or two moaning and groaning in a heap, she'd voiced her mind by saying "I am _so_ going to turn that bitch into a toad". Harry had only managed a pained laugh in reply.

She still didn't know how Emma was outsmarting her. She'd somehow avoided three magical traps intended to humiliate her, all in fun of course, and even a mild lust potion laced cup of tea, which Narcissa had watched her drink, that should have made her incredibly horny for several hours.

Didn't happen. Nada, zip, zilch, zero. Nothing.

So, she'd tried going on a non-magical attack.

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked, her face a blissfully ignorant mask.

"You told them I felt disrespected as a lady of the house by the use of my first name?" she said angrily. "How could you?"

She'd also told them it was a prank but there was no way she was going to tell the angered woman that. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." She stated as she raised her cup to her lips and looked at the brunette over its brim. She had heard about the younger Granger woman of the family and her egalitarianism and figured she had to get it from someplace and from talks with the elder had known where that somewhere was. A quick discussion with Ellie and _Voila,_ one irritated Muggle. Maybe not up there with a perfectly good shag ruined, but hey, she'd take what she could get.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." Only her occlumency allowed her to keep a straight face as she replied to the other woman.

"Oh, you know perfectly well what I'm talking about." Emma seethed.

Narcissa picked up her paper. "Well, if you're going to be like that…" She raised it as a barrier between them once again. Only then did she let a grin appear on her face.

* * *

A/N: Never, ever scoff at an author who says they're late with a post because their computer crashed. Karma is a bitch and she knows where you live. I procrastinate but a month without a computer sucks!


	12. Chapter 12: War is Declared

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Leaky Cauldron or anything else in JKR's wonderful world. Except for the little pebble just in front of the front doors of Hogwarts. I put that there. I might own that. Maybe. But probably not.

 _Albus Dumbledore considered the 8-foot-wide by 15-foot-high boulder sitting on the front steps of Hogwarts, wondering who might have set it there and for what purpose. If it was a prank, he wondered who might have placed it since the Marauders and the Weasley twins were all gone from the school and nobody else had shown a propensity for pranks of this magnitude. Well, until it was removed people would just have to use another entrance._

" _Argus, please have this out of the way before the students return." He stated to the man staring at the mountain standing beside him. "Good man." He walked away leaving the other man, school caretaker Argus Filch, staring at his retreating back._

" _Most powerful wizard in the world my arse." The crotchety old man mumbled as he set off to find a sledgehammer._

* * *

A/N: Surprise! ER

* * *

 **Chapter 12: War is Declared**

Christmas time, a time of the year she absolutely loved. Giving or going to parties, decorating, gift buying, visiting friends, picking up Draco at Kings Cross for the hols, it was just a time where she loved every minute of every day.

There were no parties this year though, which didn't much matter. She hadn't given or been to one in years, and the times of retrieving Draco were long over and what gifts she'd needed had been bought in Europe during their vacation or gotten by the elves in nondescript pillowcases (and wasn't it nice shop keepers didn't pay much attention to who owned the elf paying them for the goods they were getting?). But decorating and visiting, even if it was only with Emma or Ellie or some of the other women, those she had indulged in. Harry had opened the attic to her, and she'd quickly found the decorations the Potters had used in years past. Wreaths and garlands she had transfigured from trees on the property and the three of them had gone into the woods and found several trees they'd brought back and covered in tinsel and lights.

While not a party as such the three of them had arranged a grand feast for their guests in the grand ballroom with all the decorations and traditional Christmas food: meats and geese and puddings and treats, biscuits and candies, eggnog and mulled cider. There followed a visit from Father Christmas, one of the older uncles with an appropriately sized belly who knew all the names and had found out wants and desires, who passed out toys and gifts to young and old alike. The house had resounded with the joyous laughter of children and singing and she had seen Harry with a wide smile plastered on his face all night long, cheerfully denying having anything to do with any of the gifts and especially the ten galleons each and every person had received in a separate pouch.

She had spent much of the evening with an arm around Emma's shoulders as the other woman had leaned into her and watched the laughing children playing with their new games and dolls and toys with a wistful smile.

Emma had refused to let her help decorate her own quarters, stating she wanted to surprise her with how mundanes celebrated the holidays. When she'd finally been allowed into her suite tonight, she hadn't been just surprised but completely amazed. Along with the greenery had been the lights, hundreds on the tree itself, more wound though and around the garland over the doors and fireplace and each window had a string around the inside of it, lit artificial candles on each windowsill. There were so many they didn't need to turn the regular lights on, enjoying the warm glow they gave off.

She laughed at the waist high animated Father Christmas who waved and turned his head and delighted in the village on the sideboard with its dancing skaters on the small pond. The manger scene was of all beautiful ceramics and very detailed.

Angels were everywhere; many of them with what Emma said were fiber optics, thin threads of glass, lit from within the body of the angel. Several were one color, usually white, but several others changed colors outlining feathered wings with ever changing rainbows. Several more were glass, sitting on pedestals with a light, or lights, in them lighting them from below.

Ornaments hung from just about any edged surface, many of them the traditional glass balls, but many as well were figurines of Christmas beings. On the tree however, many of them looked homemade, of paper and sticks, buttons and ribbon, some with writing in the squiggly scrawl of a young child, done with love and presented to delighted parents.

When Emma explained in a quiet voice this was the first time since the end of the war she'd even had the decorations out of their boxes she felt her throat tightening, grieving for a mother and wife's losses.

The three of them now sat in the living room, having finished a wonderful dinner Emma had prepared, drinking mulled cider and eating homemade biscuits and talking of holidays past, with soft carols playing in the background on the stereo, when Winky walked into the room. "Lord Harry Potter, sir, there be's someone at the floo for you." She announced.

With a look of confusion Harry got up and excused himself, saying he'd be back in a few minutes. She was confused as well. She thought no one knew he was here, so who could it be?

A few minutes later she heard voices approaching and then a child's laugh. A child? When Harry walked through the door he was holding the hand of a small boy, perhaps five or six years old. When he saw her and Emma his smile vanished to be replaced with a wary look – and his dark brown hair turned a fiery red.

She rose to her feet, knowing immediately who the boy had to be. She crouched down in front of him and said, "Hello, Teddy. I'm your aunt Narcissa."

Just at that moment a woman came into the room. "Harry, are you sure we're not …"

Narcissa rose from her crouch and the two women stared at each other for a moment before Narcissa found her voice. "Andi?"

Andromeda Tonks stared for just a moment longer before stepping forward to embrace her sister. "'Cissie! Oh, Merlin, 'Cissie I've been so worried about you." She cried as the two held each other. "First it was that little snot of a boy of yours and you turning me down, and then I heard you were working in Knockturn and I wanted to come get you but I knew that damn stubborn pride of yours would have made you turn me down again and then you disappeared with that man and oh 'Cissie I was beginning to think you were dead."

Narcissa laughed through her own tears. "No, it was just Harry having me rescued. I'm sorry if you were worried."

They both turned to him. "I'm sorry Andromeda; I just didn't want anybody to know where either of us was for a while." He smiled widely. "Merry Christmas to both of you."

They both kissed him on the cheek and wished him a Merry Christmas before he looked down to young Teddy. "We've been waiting for you, young man!" He said with a big grin. "Now we can open presents!"

The boy's face immediately broke into a huge smile and his hair turned a bright blue as Harry led him over to the tree.

Half an hour later Harry was chasing him up and down the hallways as he tried out his new broom and from the laughter she could hear Narcissa was certain both of them were enjoying themselves. She sat with the other two women as she caught her sister up on her life and Harry's plans.

"And you really believe what he wants to do is what needs to be done?" Andi asked.

"I spent a month living like a muggle, Andi," she shrugged, "alright a rich muggle, and I didn't need to use my wand a single time, not once. They can do a lot of the things we can do, bigger and better if not faster and a lot of things we can't and since then I've spent a lot of time in the muggle world researching, reading and watching their news and Harry is right: if Riddle had gotten us into a war with them because he thought they couldn't resist us they'd have wiped us out. There would have been a lot more casualties on their side, but they would have won. When the time comes they have to acknowledge our existence or if someone just announces to the world what they've found, we have to be ready to integrate smoothly into their society because the way ours is now, they'll force us to comply with their laws, their way of life and it will destroy ours. They'll have that right. The Ministry is part of the Queen's government and she can disband it with only a word."

Her sister smiled at her. "You're preaching to the choir, Narcissa. Once I married Ted, I watched for years the prejudice and bigotry and bias of the purebloods towards the Muggleborn and half-bloods. I know things need to change. I'm just so happy you've finally seen that."

She got up and crossed over to sit on the couch with her older sister, took her in her arms and hugged her. "I'm sorry, Andi. All those years and I was just as bad as any of the others."

Andromeda chuckled. "Well, being a Black and married to Lucius certainly didn't help. And when you two start this war of yours you certainly won't be fighting alone."

"What do you mean?"

"When Harry came over to the house yesterday to invite Teddy and me over tonight, he also put me on retainer for anything to do with Potter or Black affairs." She smiled. "I'm your legal counsel!"

She returned the smile. "Then I know we have a good support team behind us when we're out on the front lines." She hugged her sister again.

((((((OOOOO))))))

She sat back in the remarkably comfortable chair, a recliner, with her feet tucked up under her and a mug of warm cider in her hands and watched the scene before her. The only lights on were the Christmas lights but there were more than enough to light the entire room. The brightly wrapped presents under the beautifully decorated tree were gone now, replaced with their contents. The cheerfully blazing fire that had been in the fireplace at the beginning of the evening had burned down to embers with only the occasional tongue of flame. Emma and Andi sat on the couch talking and laughing while Harry and Teddy were on the floor playing a board game, Snakes and Ladders she believed, and from the way the child was laughing Harry was losing quite badly.

She marveled at how childlike he could be. He could laugh and play with Teddy as if he were only six years old himself. He was so different as a lover, or a student or a teacher. His complexity intrigued her. He could be a cold, cruel tactician as he planned the downfall and ruin of one family but cry at the poverty of another. She thought of his statement of being gray the night he had retrieved her and knew he was right. He could do extremely dark things but balanced them with those of the light. He fought his enemies as they fought him but limited the damage to _only_ his enemies; they usually didn't care who might get hurt.

In only one week's time he would openly declare his war against those Death Eaters who had escaped justice because of the fading of their marks, but they wouldn't know it. Only the light side of his campaign would be visible, limiting their responses if they wanted to stay respectable and out of prison. The dark side would be just that: dark, hidden, out of sight and when they least expected it. The attacks would be from people they didn't know, hidden in subterfuge, done in such a way they wouldn't know who to retaliate against. They would fall, be moved aside and removed from their positions of power so that change could happen, so things would be different, better.

And yet, despite all that, he could lay on the floor and play games with a six year old boy, he could give her the best Christmas of her life, lead her to new things and show her the good things in his world, a world he wanted to share with and give to those who hadn't the power to change the one they were in.

She smiled at the thought as she watched the tranquil scene if front of her.

He would lead her, and she would willingly follow.

((((((OOOOO))))))

She wrapped the traveling cloak around herself. There was to be no ash or soot to brush away on her tonight!

Emma stepped up and closed the clasp on the cloak before looking her in the eye. "And her name is …"

"…Narcissa!" She finished with a feral grin, remembering what she had told Harry all those months ago, pleased her friend had remembered as well. She pondered that strange little fact for a moment: she, Narcissa Malfoy, best friends with a muggle! Surely, she had ancestors rolling over in their graves!

"Tonight's your night, 'Cis," Emma stated as she pulled the cloak's hood up over Narcissa's hair, "make those bitches squirm!"

"For both of us." She replied and grasped the other woman's hands in her own.

Harry stepped up to them. "Ready to re-enter society?" He asked with a smile.

She drew herself up and looked down her nose in a way she hadn't done in years. "More than ready." She sniffed with a haughty look. Emma laughed.

He grinned and took her hand, leading her to the fireplace. A pinch of powder, a burst of green flames and he was gone. She followed him into the floo only seconds later.

As she stepped out of the fireplace at the Ministry, she took Harry's hand, pleased to see he had retained his feet as he handed their invitations to the greeter, who seemed just a little awestruck as he stared at Harry. She smiled just a little bit as she thought _it won't be Harry he's staring at in just a moment!_

The awe in his eyes went to full scale shock as he read the names on the card, looking up at the two of them before turning to the crowd.

She looked at the crowd of people in the Atrium, the dancers in the middle of the floor, others standing or sitting at tables around the edges, the orchestra, waiters with platters of drinks and snacks moving through them all and let a little smile play on her lips as the greeter placed his wand to his throat and used a _sonorous._ " **Lord Harry James Potter-Black and Lady Narcissa Malfoy.** "

If she hadn't been expecting it, she would have laughed at what happened at the pronouncement of those words. Heads whipped around in their direction, most of those dancing stopped to turn and stare, even the orchestra faltered. The large open area became absolutely silent.

She saw the widened eyes, the mouths open in surprise or shock, the disbelieving looks as the crowd looked upon them as if seeing ghosts. And then Harry shrugged off his traveling cloak and it was as if a wind blew through the atrium the gasps were so loud. For he hadn't worn robes but a muggle suit, a tuxedo, by a designer she had learned was named Armani, and if she were right, she knew what almost every woman in the room was thinking. The sharp cut of the jacket and trousers, the starched white shirt with its black bow tie, the black and gold cufflinks at the wrists; it was an aphrodisiac for the eyes. On Harry it spoke of masculinity, power, and dominance. She saw the eyes of women looking at him and knew exactly what they were thinking, because she'd thought it, too. However, unlike them, she hadn't needed to forego doing what she was thinking about. As a matter of fact, she'd barely been able to restrain herself until they'd gotten back to the hotel the day they bought it before virtually attacking him as soon as the door was shut. The memory of that night caused the corner of her mouth to turn up in remembered pleasure.

Flashes started going off as photographers tried getting the best shots for their publications, even as Harry stepped behind her. She reached up and flipped the hood of her cape back as he reached around her and unclasped the hook of the cape and pulled it back and off her shoulders.

If it had been a wind at Harry's unveiling, it was a virtual storm at hers, and the flashes tripled in number. She could hear gasps and exclamations as well as muted mutterings as everyone saw what she was wearing. She could understand the shocked musings: she, Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, once one of the highest of social standings and an outspoken pureblood witch, was wearing a muggle gown! A blue so deep it was almost black, it was what she had learned the muggles called asymmetrical, leaving her right arm and shoulder bare while her left arm and shoulder were covered to the wrist. It didn't hug her body as it looked, but it fit very well, outlining it to perfection. The skirt flowed around her legs to the floor and a slit in front would open to her thighs when she walked, exposing the barest hint of the top of her stocking, something she knew would be considered almost scandalous in the present company of the cream of society. Directly over her bosom was an explosion of crystals that thinned and faded up the neckline to her shoulder, like a comet in the night sky. She had fallen in love with it the moment she'd seen it in the salon in Milan.

She had wanted to go big with jewelry, massive and gaudy, but Harry had overruled her, and she was glad he had. A diamond enhanced tortoise shell comb on the left side of her head directed her hair around to and over her right shoulder. A set of elegant diamond dangles adorned her ears and matched the slender and delicate looking diamond necklace around her neck which in turn complimented the bracelet on her right wrist. Finishing the ensemble was a modest diamond ring on her right hand. Let them ponder the significance of that.

To top off her apparel she wore open toed sandals with three-inch heels, silver and encrusted with the same Swarovski crystals that adorned her dress.

As she turned her head to thank Harry for taking her cape, she saw women staring at and talking about her out of the corner of her eye and the corner of her mouth turned up in a snide smile. _Admit it ladies,_ she thought to herself, _I'm back and the very first thing I did was to make you all feel old, fat and ugly!_ She knew she shouldn't, Harry probably wouldn't like it, but she felt very pleased with herself.

Then Harry stepped in front of her. "Would you care to dance, Milady?"

"I would love to, Milord." She replied and took his hand. As he led her out onto the dance floor, she thought of how much rehearsal had gone into those few short seconds. It had been time well spent. After all, they wanted an entrance no one would forget.

The crowd parted before them as they walked to the middle of the dance floor and she took great pleasure in the looks of shock, bewilderment and outright confusion on the faces of the people already there as the two of them studiously ignored them all. Harry had wanted to make a dramatic return to the wizarding world, and she was more than willing to help him do it. She was absolutely certain that every person in the room was wondering how and why they'd gotten together and what it would mean in the future. Well, let them wonder.

They danced for over an hour and she was quite pleased with Harry. He'd taken to it quite well and was an excellent partner. She had always loved dancing but getting Lucius to dance had made Harry's first task of the tournament seem easy. She was glad Harry liked it.

Between each dance she introduced him to people in the crowd, people he would have to work with to achieve his plan of reshaping the wizarding world. She pointedly did not introduce him to some and totally ignored and avoided others. She could see their faces, the frustration and anger, and she enjoyed it. Harry had promised her revenge and tonight was just the first sampling of what was to come.

After one dance he smiled at her and said "My turn" as he put an arm around her waist and led her over to a group of young people sitting and standing around one of the tables. One of them was a pretty blonde with her left arm in a sling matching the peach color of her gown. A brunette in a gold trimmed hunter green gown was sitting in such a way that she could see the end of a peg leg sticking out from under the hem of hers. She knew who both of the young women were and that their disabilities had been received during the war, thus why they hadn't been healed. She silently cursed the fact that so many men had been killed while so many of the women had survived, only to be brutally maimed or scarred. She rather thought it had been to remove the men as a possible future threat and to so frighten the women as to make them docile and submissive after the war had been won by the dark side. She was very glad that hadn't been the result, but their world still had to live with the consequences.

"Oohhh, Neville, if I can get him alone for just a very short time, I'm going to be so _very_ unfaithful to you!" The blonde with the maimed arm stated as she looked him up and down. From the look in her eyes and the way she was staring at Harry, she would have a very hard time telling if the younger woman was teasing or not. The other young ladies were giving him the twice over as well, hunger in their eyes. Well, except for the blonde with the sunglasses on. They made it impossible to see hers.

"Hey, mate! You're back only a couple of hours and already you're trying to steal my wife? Not cool, mate, not cool." The tall young man she knew was the Lord of House Longbottom scowled for a moment before breaking into a huge grin and reaching out a hand. "Welcome back, Harry. It's about time you showed up again. It's been awful boring here lately. We could use some excitement."

"Not that much we don't." the blonde said. "And Harry, you missed my wedding."

Harry released the man's hand and leaned down to give the young woman a one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek. "I am truly sorry about that, Hannah, but I was out of the country and never got the invitation and besides, I would not have been very good company at the time. Very bad times for me."

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Harry?" This from the redhead seated to the right of the girl Harry called Hannah.

"I certainly am. Narcissa, this is Lord Neville Longbottom and his charming wife Hannah." He indicated the two he'd been chatting with. "Nev, Hannah, may I present my companion, Lady Narcissa Malfoy."

She nodded at both of them with a smile and small curtsy, due to a higher ranked house from a lower one. "Lord and Lady Longbottom, it's my pleasure to meet you both. Harry has told me about both of you." Both of their mouths gave a little quirk, as if they knew more about her than Harry let on.

"And this young lady is Lady Susan Bones." Harry indicated the redhead, who was scowling.

"And I absolutely hate you." Narcissa felt her eyes widening at the unexpected statement before the girl's mouth curled up in a smile. "I spent weeks planning my gown for this event and being the center of attention and then you walk out on the floor and with no effort at all you make every woman out there feel like she's wearing a potato sack." She extended her hand with a smile. "Pleased to meet you, Lady Malfoy. Just call me Susan."

She took the hand, marveling it had been offered at all. After all, her husband had been part of the group that had murdered her aunt, and she knew it. She was pleased at the gesture, however. "It's Narcissa, and to tell the truth, that was my plan as well. And you certainly don't look as if you're wearing a potato sack." Indeed, she didn't. A red that complemented her hair the robes clung to her curves and showed just the right amount of cleavage in a stunning display of young womanhood. She could certainly believe the girl had been the center of attention, but age and experience could trump youth and beauty almost every time.

"This young woman is Tracy Davis." Harry continued with the introductions, indicating the girl with the wooden leg.

"Miss Davis, I've heard your name a time or two."

The girl smirked good naturedly at her. "Nothing good, I imagine."

She returned the smirk. "No. Usually it was in connection with your interference of my son's pursuit of a certain Daphne Greengrass."

"She couldn't stand him." The younger woman said unabashedly. "I ran interference as much as I could." The smirk widened. "I enjoyed doing it."

"Is she here tonight?" Harry asked. "In school the two of you seemed to be joined at the hip."

She saw the girl's expression change immediately, from carefree to guarded. "No, she doesn't get out much since the war. She was badly wounded and didn't heal properly. The side effects of some curses, you know."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Please let her know I hope she can get better." Tracy nodded and Harry turned to the last girl in the group, a small blonde in a yellow gown, the one with the sunglasses. "And this is Miss Luna Lovegood." He said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lovegood. I knew both of your parents during my time at Hogwarts and enjoyed their company immensely. I was truly sorry at their passing."

"Even though Daddy was strange?" The girl asked, looking up at her with a serene smile, obviously knowing how people thought of her father.

"I found his strangeness charming in the way he made Selene laugh." She replied truthfully. She'd allowed Xeno his quirks for how he treated her friend. "He was very good for and to her."

"Yes, he was, and she was good for him. I miss them both. Why don't you sit and talk a while? Harry can join us if he wants."

Harry scowled and shook his head good naturedly at the backhanded invite as the others laughed. "Please forgive me for asking, but I couldn't help but notice your glasses. I wouldn't think the lighting in here tonight would be a bother. Do you have a problem with your eyes?"

"Luna…" came a surprising sound of warning from Neville. Warning of what? Had she unknowingly trodden onto unspoken ground or something?

With an amused smile Luna shook her head. "No, I don't have a problem with my eyes at all." She said as she tilted her head forward and pulled her glasses to the tip of her nose so Narcissa could see over them.

She froze in shock, finding herself looking into two black, empty pits. "During the battle I fought Mulciber." Luna said as an explanation as she pushed her glasses back up. "He disarmed and then raped me. Then, because I'd had the impudence to challenge him in the first place, he burned my eyes out with a dark spell. He started to leave, telling me I was a good lay and he'd find me again after the Dark Lord won the battle. That angered me. So, I killed him."

She'd said everything so matter-of-factly the tale was more chilling for that than what had happened. "But… how?" If she'd been blind, how had she even found him?

"Mulciber made three mistakes." Harry said. "He didn't kill her; he left her wand where she could get it and he turned his back on her. Unfortunately for him, our little moon child here has The Sight. She gets along just fine without her eyes. They had to pick him up from five different places however."

"She's a seer." Susan put in. "But she won't tell what she sees. And that's the first time I've heard her say exactly what happened to her that day." She gave a questioning look to the girl who just smiled.

Narcissa stared at the girl who seemingly was staring right back, smiling pleasantly all the while. "Telling the future changes it." Luna explained. "Besides, there are so many futures it's not easy picking which one will be."

Hannah spoke up. "You said Harry would show up tonight, though."

"That's because in almost all of the futures, he did." The blonde replied as she unerringly picked a mint out of the bowl sitting on the table and put it in her mouth. "But I didn't know he'd be bringing a guest." She smiled pleasantly. "It's nice to be surprised sometimes."

"But, if you see so well, why didn't you avoid him?" She asked. No one at the table asked who 'him' was.

"I had the choice of turning left to him and a slight chance of defeating him and a bigger one of surviving even if I lost, or right to his friends, a lot more pain and certain death regardless."

Just more evidence she was right in what she believed about why so many of the women who survived the war were so physically scarred by it. She wished she were wrong. To see the results of so casual and cruel of a gesture which was just so pointless made her sick to think of what would have happened if the other side had won.

"It's getting to morbid for my taste." Harry said suddenly. "Luna, I have a gift for you." He handed a small, brightly wrapped gift across the table to her.

She quickly opened the small box and laughed gaily as she removed her sunglasses and put on the new pair Harry had given her. Everyone laughed as she looked around the table at them with great goggle eyes – which suddenly fell off to bounce around attached to the springs behind them. She laughed again as she snapped her head back and they returned to their place. "Thank you, Harry! They're wonderful! Now you have to dance with me!" Before anyone could say anything, she was dragging him out onto the dance floor.

"Damn! I wanted to get him first." Hannah said while smiling at her husband.

"Well, if you don't want Neville, I'll take him." Susan stated as she pulled him to his feet and into the crowd.

She sat and talked with the other young women, snacking on hors d'oeuvres and Champaign as the two men took turns dancing with them all. When Neville extended his arm to her she took it and he led her out. He was an accomplished dancer, which she'd expected being the heir to a lordship and the grandson of Augusta Longbottom, and as they moved around the floor, she looked up at him. "Why have you and your friends accepted me so easily?" She asked. "There are so many reasons I can think of why you wouldn't."

"You're with Harry." He said casually with a smile, as if that explained everything, leading her through a turn. "If he trusts and accepts you, why shouldn't we?"

"Thank you, that means a lot to me."

He led her back to the table after the dance where she told them she needed to go freshen up.

((((((OOOOO))))))

Harry watched as Narcissa turned and walked away, which wasn't a bad view in his opinion. She was halfway across the room when he noticed others appeared to have the same destination in mind at the same time. That little fact didn't go unnoticed by his friends.

"Oh! This looks like it's going to be good!" Susan's smile was something Harry was glad was not aimed at him.

"Then what are we doing here?" Tracy asked, pushing herself up from the table. The rest of the girls followed across the room. Despite her leg, Harry noticed Tracy got around quite agilely. Even on the dance floor she'd been a wonderful partner. She'd learned to live with a disability that many wouldn't have handled so well, and there had been many of them, her, Luna and Hannah as examples. Which made him think of Daphne Greengrass. What had happened to her that was so debilitating she had, or chose, to stay at home?

"So," Neville said suddenly, interrupting his train of thought. "Do you think it's a herd instinct or something? One goes and they all have to go?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea. I just file it along with the universal law that says a woman has to have fifty pairs of shoes, many of them the same style but in different colors."

Neville chuckled, and then changed the subject completely, not that Harry hadn't been expecting it. "Narcissa Malfoy?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"The sex is great."

"You cannot tell me you're sleeping with…" His voice stopped as he looked at the smirk on Harry's face. "Bloody hell! You _are_ sleeping with her!" He laughed as he shook his head. "Draco's head is going to explode when he sees tomorrow's Prophet wherever he is." He turned to face Harry. "What are you up to Harry?"

"What makes you think I'm up to anything?" He replied innocently, snagging a glass of Champaign from a tray as a waiter passed by and taking a sip.

"You've been out of sight for over four years, presumably out of the country by you own words, and up till six months ago the good Lady Malfoy was a prostitute in Knockturn alley. By all reports she was flat broke and living hand to mouth when she suddenly walks out the door, seemingly of her own accord, with a shady character appropriately known as the Shadow Man, someone the Aurors would very much like to have a very long conversation with, with a lot of veritaserum involved, and vanishes so completely there are very credible rumors she's dead. Then lo and behold! On the one night of the year where most of the cream of society and not a few of the ordinary citizenry are gathered together in celebration who should step out of the floo like they owned the place but the two most talked about missing people in all of the wizarding world. You're escorting the mother of your worst enemy and she's wearing a king's ransom in jewelry and the two of you seem to be _very_ close. To top it all off she's wearing what is obviously a muggle gown, which is stunning by the way, something that a Black or a Malfoy would never do, and you are acting like a true lord of the manor. I know you Potter; you know shite about etiquette or protocol so I have to think she's the one who's coaching you, but I don't know why and now you tell me you're sleeping with her. So, don't give me any more crap about not being up to something. You're planning something and forgive me for saying this but if I didn't know better, I'd say it's a plan Hermione would have come up with or at least been very proud that you did. So, give."

He smiled at his best friend's evaluation of the situation. "When I stepped out of that floo tonight, it was a declaration of war, Nev."

"Against whom?"

"The entire magical world."

"Why?" The young man didn't seem worried in the slightest about the statement.

"It needs to change, Nev. It needs to catch up with the rest of the world around us, because if it doesn't, when that world finds us it will destroy us without even meaning to and the probability it will find us goes up every single day. There's also the fact of the blatant inequality amongst the citizens and in Her name and spirit I am going to meet it head on. So, I'm going to change it, drag it kicking and screaming out of the mid-nineteenth century and into the twenty-first."

Neville knew of who he was talking and Hermione's hatred of the imbalance between the haves and the have-nots, the rich and the poor, and most especially the purebloods and the Muggleborn. "And just how do you intend to do that?" He asked.

"By hitting it from the top down, bottom up, front to back and from both sides. For too long people have bought influence in the ministry to get what they wanted for themselves. Most of those people are gone but their friends are still here but now I have the money and the power and if they get in my way I'm going to roll them under. There are so many things needing changing to make this a fair and equal society I can't count them all, but I'm going to do it."

"And Draco's mum? Where does she fit in?"

"Let's just say she had an epiphany while she's been with me and she agrees with what I'm doing and is helping me to get it done." He smirked. "Plus, she's using it to her advantage to get revenge on a few people who kicked her while she was down, thinking she'd never get back up again."

Neville laughed. "That sounds like the Malfoy's we all know and love." He sobered. "Is there going to be any blood and gore in this little war of yours?"

"Not if I can help it." He replied truthfully. "I may break a few of them but if they're all alive at the end of it I wouldn't be upset."

Neville nodded, looking pleased at the answer. "Need some allies?"

He smiled widely. "I thought you'd never ask."

"Good, because Sue and I have been busting our heads trying to get those kinds of things through the Wizengamot with no luck. Maybe the Man-Who-Conquered can get people to pull their heads out of their arse and look around them."

"Are they still calling me that?" Harry asked with a groan.

"Harry, if it got things done, I wouldn't mind if they called you the Man-Who-Shagged-Hot-Older-Married-Women." Neville laughed.

He chuckled. "You wouldn't. How bad is it?"

The taller man shrugged. "To much self-interest. The dark side is solid and have it set up to keep things the way they are while the light side reaps the benefits and doesn't want to rock the boat while they can say it's all the other side's fault and the neutrals are neutral."

Harry sighed. "I probably wasted years when I should have used my fame back after the Battle to get some of it done. It's going to take years to accomplish what I want to do now."

"Like I have anything better to do?" Neville inquired. He was silent for a moment. Then, "Great sex, huh?"

"Neville, you of all people should know a gentleman never kisses and tells." He gave a wide grin to his friend.

"Screw you, Potter."

"Yeah."

((((((OOOOO))))))

She'd expected them as she came out of the stall. She'd heard them come in. She'd just misjudged their numbers by a few. A quick glance confirmed that a lot of them were on Harry's target list, and a great many of them on hers. "My, my, my." She said, feigning surprise. "If I'd known I was holding up the line I'd have taken longer." She gave them a false smile as she moved through them to the sinks.

"You're not wanted here, Malfoy." Someone from the crowd stated loudly.

"Oh, I know that." She stated cheerily as she soaped her hands. "But I _am_ here and I'm going to stay here and there's not a whole lot you can do about it. And it's _Lady_ Malfoy to you." Her last sentence came out considerably cooler than her first as she glared at the perpetrator.

One of the women barked a short laugh. "Lady? A slag like you?"

"Now Edna, dear," she turned to the speaker with a smile, "if you're going to try to insult me you _must_ remember to do it properly. Slags give it away for free, _I_ was paid for it. That makes me a prostitute, a whore, a lady of the evening, a professional, not some amateur having a little fun." Why try to deny the truth? Use it to her advantage. "Do try to remember the difference in the future." She dried her hands as she smiled at her opponent mockingly.

"I was at the sale of Malfoy Manor, Narcissa," one of them said snidely, "and you just won't believe what I found in the drawer of the most beautiful little bedside table I bought."

So, they were going to try humiliation and embarrassment, were they? Stupid, stupid, stupid. After what she'd been through that tactic was going to blow up in their faces. They didn't know what humiliation and embarrassment were until they tried soliciting in Knockturn for a year. "Why wouldn't I believe it, dear? I left them there after all." She replied, not even turning to face the speaker as she checked her lipstick in the mirror. "But if you want some advice on how to use them, when you put the long, thin one in, turn it so the knob on the end is up then tap the end with your wand; it vibrates, and oh the sensations! You'll absolutely love it!" She finally faced the woman as shocked gasps and murmurs sounded. "And I don't need the big one anymore, not when I've got Harry!"

She heard sniggers among them and saw some shuffling of feet and confused sideways glances from the crowd. This wasn't going the way it was supposed to. She was supposed to be cowed and intimidated by their numbers, worried, humiliated and defensive. Instead she had taken the initiative, was on the offense, controlling the conversation. She knew in this little game of Queen of the Mountain she couldn't start at the bottom and fight her way to the top if she wanted to win back her position in society anytime soon, so she changed the rules and had jumped straight to the peak and was kicking the current rulers down the hill and taking their place. It was making them nervous.

And well it should, she smirked inwardly. She was a Malfoy, _and_ a Black damn it, and neither family _ever_ backed down from this kind of challenge. Certainly not from a group of second-rate lower houses!

"Just because you got your hooks into Potter…"

She laughed. "Ahead of you, you mean?"

"She's right though." Edna entered the fray again, almost snarling. "Don't think you're our equal anymore."

Equal? She almost felt insulted. She was _never_ their equal. She was and always had been better than them, their superior, by right of both birth and marriage and was going to prove it to them in no uncertain terms and make them choke on the fact.

She leaned back against the counter and raised her hands and touched her collar bones with her fingertips, displaying all of her jewelry. "Do you like my diamonds, Edna? They were a gift from Harry. He's such a generous person, with such a wonderful taste and style." She spoke sultrily and smiled maliciously. They all knew she was wearing more wealth than most of them combined and the shot hit home, hard.

Edna however just snorted and tossed her head. "Expensive baubles from a half-blood upstart. Gifts like that just mean you're a more expensive whore."

She grinned evilly, thankful for an opening like that. "Edna, dear, I've always admired that sapphire you're wearing. Wasn't it a _gift_ from Claudius? It seems we have more in common than I thought." They all heard the emphasis on the word, recognized the innuendo and knew what she meant by it. There were some gasps and even a few more sniggers. Edna's eyes widened in shock before narrowing with anger at what she'd done.

She went on before the other woman could reply, however, in a low, dangerous tone. "And I would be very careful about how you talk about Lord Potter-Black," she used his title deliberately, going for effect, "because he is very sensitive about words like that, applied to anyone, especially himself or anyone close to him. He gets quite … angry, and with the Potter _and_ Black fortunes at his disposal, well, there's just no telling at all what he might do. You wouldn't want me telling him how he was being disrespected, now would you?"

There it was, the power of her position and she received great pleasure in wielding it. Reminding them of who she was with and given the implied threat of what Harry might do if she were to tell him what they had said, or tell him what she wanted him to hear whether they'd said it or not, telling them all what might happen if she pointed Harry's untested and unknown limits of power towards them. If they believed she had that power.

She smiled inwardly as they all took a half step back, as if her words had been a physical force. It appeared they did believe she had it. It was time to go in for the kill. She focused her gaze on Edna. "Would you?" She asked, knowing this was a moment of truth. Would they submit to her authority, however tenuous, or not?

She held her gaze on Edna. She was the leader; she was the one who had to break.

And she did.

"No, Narcissa, you don't need to do anything like that." She answered in a subdued tone.

She cocked her head, raised an eyebrow and held her gaze, pressing her advantage. The other woman sighed and seemed to deflate a bit, color rising in her face and her eyes to the floor as she realized she had lost. "No, Lady Malfoy, that won't be necessary."

The last of the old regime tumbled down the mountain and a new queen was crowned. Long live the queen.

She relaxed her eyes and smiled civilly. That was it, the power, the rush and feeling of winning she loved so much. To make her say it in front of the others, to _admit_ it, that was the kind of revenge she had been wanting, dreaming of, needing; and to think there was so much more to come!

"Cheating whore."

She heard the half-mumbled words and laughed. Oh, the gods were smiling down on her tonight as another opening was presented. "You're so right about that." She told them cheerfully. "Thanks to a lot of you I am both of those things." She saw some guilty looks pass over several faces. "But my husband is in prison for the rest of his life and I had to support myself in some fashion so it's really alright to say that. Not that he was ever all that faithful to me, with some of the faces in this room as a matter of fact," and she turned her eyes to three of those standing there, only two of whom started to redden guiltily while the third glared defiantly back at her while several others gasped at what she was saying or began whispering, "so I really don't find myself feeling any kind of guilt at what I did, or do. But I must say, while my _friends_ " and her eyes swept the room, "didn't feel the need to help me in my time of troubles," time for some more of that sweet, sweet revenge, and then stomp them while they're down, "their _husbands_ were more than willing to help me make ends meet."

The room couldn't have exploded more spectacularly if she'd set off an overpowered bombarda in their midst. She smirked at them all as first there was a huge collective gasp, then a split second of utter silence before the cries went up.

"NO!" "…lying bitch!" "…say anything…" "…not true!"

They started to surge forward and she straightened to stop them. "LADIES! You all knew where I was and what I was doing. Surely you're not going to stand there and tell me you believe your husbands didn't?!" She swept her eyes around and saw the looks in their faces and started laughing. "You are! Oh, this is so rich! You actually want me to believe the paragons of virtue you're all married to didn't know the wife of the man so many of them hated, despised, detested and just plain outright didn't like was a prostitute in Knockturn alley!" She was finding it difficult to talk she was laughing so hard. "To come down to her to use, abuse, humiliate, and degrade her in order to get back at him. Well, let me tell you something ladies, if it hadn't been for them the first three or four months I was there, I might not be here at all tonight." Her smirk turned into an outright sneer. Time for a few kicks to go with the stomping they were receiving. She raised her arms and did a turn giving all a good look at her, actually thankful for the exercising and self-defense training Harry had her doing and what it had done for her body. "Although maybe it was because they wanted something a lot better than what they had at home, hmmm?" She looked around, meeting eyes, grinning as she saw the anger and fury in the faces around her and decided to stick in a few dagger thrusts as well. "I will say however, of all the faces I see in here, two husbands never did come to see me." Let them think they were the lucky ones, knowing that each and every one of them would try to hold it over the others that _their_ husband was faithful.

She smirked as she saw that very thing in their faces as they all got self-satisfied looks that _their_ husbands hadn't cheated on them. _With her_ , she thought. _Sorry ladies, but I said two and there are over a dozen of you in here!_ She laughed again at their collective conceit. But she knew the doubt would be in every single one of them and that was what made it so satisfying.

And then the gods smiled on her _again_ as dear, lovely, wonderful, little Priscilla stepped into the fray. _I really must offer up a sacrifice in thanks_ she mused as the younger, shorter woman got up in her face. She leaned back against the counter again and smiled pleasantly as she watched her.

"Don't think you're going to browbeat us, Narcissa Malfoy!" The young woman fumed. "We're not going to take your lies and insinuations for anything more than what they are – wishful thinking on your part!"

She smiled silkily at the upstart. "So, you believe your husband never cheated on you by coming to me for a little fun time in the sack, Prissy?"

"My name is Priscilla!" The younger woman declared angrily.

She waved her hand in dismissal. "Yes, Prissy, I know it is, but you didn't answer my question."

"Of course I believe that! Eric loves me!" The younger woman huffed. "He would never cheat on me!"

She knew her smile had to look downright sinister as she brought her hand up, watching Prissy back up a step in uncertainty as to her intentions. "About that long?" She asked with a grin, spreading her thumb and index finger apart about four or five inches apart. "Surrounded by blonde hair in tight little ringlets, and three tiny little moles in the shape of a clover just above…oh, that's right. You've never had your face down that far too ever see that, have you? You've always refused him that little sex act, haven't you? It's to disgusting to even think about, you tell him, something no proper lady would do." She shook her head with a sad little smile. "Really, Prissy, it's not that bad and it would have kept him home with you and not coming to see me _every…single…Tuesday…night!_ "

 _I have got to save this memory and see if Harry has a pensieve._ She thought as she turned back to the sink for just a little touchup of her makeup as Prissy's jaw hit the floor in shock, her eyes wide and disbelieving. She wanted to laugh along with the titters and snickers of other ladies in the room but knew it would spoil the effect she'd created, so she let the others snigger and whisper behind her back, but oh how good it felt. _Thank you for this, Harry!_

That was when she saw the other woman fumbling in her robes in the mirror, her face a mask of rage as she attempted to draw her wand.

Furious, she turned, and Priscilla had to backpedal frantically as Narcissa's wand pressed against the tip of her nose until she slammed into the stall doors behind her.

"You stupid little bint! Trying to hex someone in the back when they're watching every little thing you do in a mirror?" Snarling angrily, she pressed her wand harder into the nose of the wide-eyed woman, her look of rage replaced with one of outright fear. "I always thought you were a fool but now I see you're an idiot as well. I should hex you until…"

She stopped her rant, knowing Harry wouldn't like that even though she deserved it. She tapped her wand on the woman's nose in thought several times even as she had a better idea. She stepped closer. "You do realize, don't you Prissy," she said with a smile and in a calm voice that put everyone there on their guard, "if Eric is still making his regular Tuesday … appointments … after all these months, he's not … _getting it… from…me!_ " She cocked her left eyebrow as she grinned wickedly.

It took perhaps two seconds for Priscilla to realize what she was hinting at before the rage was back in her eyes and with a shriek she stormed out of the bathroom, shoving women out of her way in her hurry to get someplace.

Narcissa chuckled at the sight. "Well ladies, it's been fun, but the night isn't getting any younger and I for one still have a lot of dancing to do." She turned and walked to the door, the crowd parting in front of her as if they didn't want to interfere with her in any way. She stopped just at the door and looked over her shoulder. "But don't worry ladies, you'll be hearing from me again." The corner of her lip curled up in a tiny sneer. "Oh, yes. You'll _all_ be hearing from me again." She turned and left the room.

She smiled. She felt energized, invigorated. She loved it. It was, after all, nothing more than her due. Ah, the perks of being the Queen.

Behind her one of the women stepped up beside Edna. "I wonder what she's up to. She's much too ambitious to just be Potter's plaything."

"What I'm wondering," the other women replied without taking her eyes off the door Narcissa had just left through, "is where she had that wand hidden in that dress."

The first woman merely cocked an eyebrow at the thought.

((((((OOOOO))))))

As she walked back into the atrium, she saw Harry's four friends walking back towards their table. She laughed, hoping they'd liked what they'd heard. She looked around, trying to see Harry and failing before she walked over to a decorative column where she pretended to be straightening her dress and watching women file out of the bathroom.

"Did you enjoy the show?" She asked quietly, seemingly of no one.

A throaty chuckle came from the other side of the column. "Oh, yes, my dear Narcissa. Immensely. It's such a joy watching a master at work stabbing people in the belly and making them beg you to do it without even realizing they're doing it."

"I would have thought you'd be one of those trying to tear me down." She stated.

"There was no reason. My antipathy towards you was always about your association with your husband. I never had any personal feelings about you other than that." The voice sounded old, but very strong and cultured.

"But you were in there." She said tightly. "I saw you in the back."

"Of course. I wanted to see what happens when a pack of little lap dogs think they can try and bring down a wolf." A little laugh. "I'm guessing that my husband never made use of your services."

She smiled wickedly. "Since he's been dead for what, forty, fifty years? I would certainly hope not." She replied. "I do have my standards you know."

"So, who was the other lucky person to have one of your 'paragons of virtue', might I ask? I promise not to tell a soul."

She looked across the huge room to where an altercation had broken out and she thought she recognized Prissy's robes. She smirked. Poor Eric. "Nobody." Was her reply. "I just wanted them all to think their man wouldn't stoop so low as to do such a thing but sow a little seed of doubt about it all in their heads."

There was laughter this time. "Oh, Narcissa, that is so evil a thing to do. The only smart thing that man of yours ever did was marry you, and then he wasted every bit of talent you have. But I would bet Lord Potter isn't so wasteful, now is he?"

"What goes on between Lord Potter-Black and I is strictly that, between us." She answered frostily. "Now, if you don't mind, I really would like to get back to dancing." Without another word she left, nor sent a single glance behind her.

Harry met her at the edge of the dance floor. "How did it go?" He asked as he swept her into the current dance.

"Wonderfully." She replied with a wide smile. "All according to plan and with a few side benefits."

"Would one of those benefits explain why a young woman just came out of the bathroom you were in and pop a man right in the eye?"

She laughed, feeling wonderful herself. "Yes. That would be dear Prissy finding out there's quite a bit of truth to the old saying 'a wife should be a lady in the parlor, a mother in the nursery and a whore in the bedroom'." She looked over his shoulder as he spun her around to where two red robed aurors were talking to a group of people. She chuckled. "Especially the bedroom part."

He laughed and gave her a peck on the lips as they continued to dance. She kissed him back, passionately, and said "Thank you so very much for tonight."

He smirked at her. "So, that's the extent of your revenge? Just one night?"

She laughed. "Oh no! I'm going to make those bitches pay through the nose, but it's a wonderful start!"

They danced for another hour, most of the time together, sometimes with others, before a large tolling bell signaled midnight and a new year. They welcomed it with a searing, passionate kiss. Another half hour of dancing and they made their goodbyes, collected their cloaks and stepped through the floo.

That was as far as they got. The fire warmed the room, the rug was soft, and she was tired of resisting the allure of Harry in that tuxedo. So, she didn't.

* * *

A/N: There you have it: where I started this little saga before I even had a name for it. From where the two of them step out of the floo at the ball to the end was just a little thing I'd put down to have something to do on a boring day. Then I got to thinking about how they'd gotten there and why and ended up with what you've seen so far. It's a very fluid story, the Anders' were originally supposed to show up _next_ fall and Emma has had a much larger presence than originally planned and will continue to do so, but I hope you stick around until the end. I'm sure I'll upset some people, tickle others and please most with what happens as Narcissa continues her new life. There'll be new friends, old enemies (and Daphne!) and a Narcissa who won't put up with just being the old-style Pureblood Lady any longer. There are too many things in the Muggle world she likes and having Emma around will let her enjoy more of them. So, Onwards! (But don't expect it this fast again!) TA! ER


End file.
